


Confession Room

by orphan_account



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Church Sex, Demons, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Priests, Yaoi, incubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 09:04:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 48,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3114065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karakura Town is a quiet town filled with good people and a strong faith in God and the church. The village priest, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, is a respectable and well-loved man of the clergy – however mysterious attacks on residents at night leave the community baffled, and a seemingly pure pastor is left to wonder what demonic creature tugs at the threads of his impure heart… </p><p>SzayGrimm. Yaoi. Church AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows of the community chapel – the glittering rays turning brilliant shades of blues, yellows, reds and greens as they hit the wooden pews and religious tapestries lining the inner walls.

The stone effigy of the crucified Jesus Christ stood motionless in the centre of the holy place, the alabaster skin of the lovingly crafted statue the purest pearl white in colour. The altar raised before it was draped in a silken sheet of red dipping over long folds of cream coloured cloth – the gold embellished cross embroidered in all its finery on the dark surface. The scent of incense wafted through the lightly perfumed air, and the raised voices of the assembly gathered echoed around the granite walls as if reaching the very heavens above.

The organ's melody lilted, rose and fell in time with the song of the chorus, and as the hymn ended the priest stepped once more up to the lectern, the sounds of churchgoers sitting back down in their rows now replacing the fading echo of their voices. Feet scuffed and people whispered, smiles on their faces as they waited for the sermon to conclude.

The priest's voice rose loud above the others, his tone rough yet still gentle as his gaze swept out over the assemblage. He read the concluding passage of scripture, his hand sweeping out in front of him and moving first from above, to down below, then side to side in the figure of a cross – the long folds of his black robes swaying with each movement.

"… And in the name of the Son, and of the Father, and of the Holy Spirit, amen."

The people answered, the chapel rumbling with the unanimous responding prayer. The priest smiled, closing the Bible before him and bowing his head to the holy book in a sign of respect.

"That concludes our gathering here today – thank you all for coming."

The crowds stood from their pews, children already laughing and racing towards the exit and pulling their parents along with them. Some of the elderly remained seated, locked in further meditation or resuming chatter of their own. The priest smiled, stepping back from the lectern and blowing out the candles which were seated on the pedestal behind him, the air becoming filled with their smoky scent. He paused when a few of the attendees approached him and engaged him in conversation, smiles on their lips as they conversed.

The excitement of the morning gradually slipped away and the priest finished seeing off the remaining churchgoers, resuming his duties in stowing away the cloths and candles taken out for the ceremony, as well as aiding his fellow clergyman with the chalices, bread and wine used for the communion procession.

It was an ordinary routine, carried out on an ordinary weekly basis. Smiling to himself and heaving a sigh of satisfaction as the last of the morning's duties waned, Father Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez ran a hand through the tousled mess of his bright blue hair, his deep cerulean eyes tired yet pleased as he stood in his office, unbuttoning his cassock and stepping out of the sweeping floor-length robes. Now clad in simple jeans and a white T-shirt, he carefully hung his robes upon a coat hanger on the wall beside the door, the man then striding towards the pinewood desk by the window and seating himself down.

He ran his eyes over the paperwork assigned to him by his fellow clergy – the ordering of supplies for the church for next week's communion – and picking up a pen nestled neatly atop his workspace he uncapped the lid and began to write.

It had been five years since Grimmjow had joined the church – a decision which he was yet to regret. Only twenty eight years old, he was the youngest priest Karakura Town had had for twelve years, and standing at a tall 6'1" and sporting bronzed skin, a toned physique, chiselled features and wild blue eyes and hair, it was often argued by many girls in the town that he was by far the most handsome clergyman ever employed since the beginning of the church itself. He often ignored these quips, the man finding no need in letting them get to him. After all it was improper for one in his line of work, and he intended to uphold the laws of the church as much as possible.

He was praised by his fellow clergymen as being of a brilliant mind, taking his job seriously as well as being a spark of hope for the townspeople. He was immensely popular, and though he did have a bit of a wild streak on occasion, he never stepped outside the boundaries of what was set down for him as an active man of the faith. It was unknown where he came from – the only explanation the priest having offered was a simple "I felt it was my calling", and then waving it off afterwards with a wide grin and a flash of white teeth whenever he was asked. His fellow priests had left it at that, and life in the sleepy hollow of Karakura Town continued on as it always had.

His shoulders slumped slightly as he hunched over his desk, Grimmjow's fingers moving fluidly with the pen across the paper he was signing, the blue haired priest entirely absorbed in his work. He gave no mind to the time, instead aiming to get these last few orders filled out before he left the chapel and made his way home.

The sunlight streamed through the window behind him and warmed his skin, and it was some fifteen minutes later that he sighed in satisfaction once again, grinning to himself as he re-capped the pen and leant back in his chair. Stretching his muscled arms above his shoulders he yawned, contemplating getting up and leaving the office when a knock sounded on the closed door.

He lifted his head.

"It's unlocked." He called out, his rough voice sounding amused. The handle turned and the black haired figure of his fellow priest, Shawlong Koufang, slowly entered. Grimmjow rose a blue eyebrow, his grin widening as he leant back further in his chair, crossing a leg loosely over the other as he regarded the intelligent looking man approaching him.

"You know you don't have to knock, Shawlong. I keep telling you that." He reminded the older priest – something he felt he had to keep doing as of late. He didn't like formality. Shawlong smiled.

"Ah but sometimes you're busy, Father Jaegerjaquez." He replied, the smile widening over his thin lips. Grimmjow rolled his eyes, sighing and shaking his head fondly as he regarded his friend.

"I'm busy all the time. I hardly see how this makes any difference." He chuckled. "What did you want to see me about?"

"To congratulate you on another sermon well done, for starters." The tall man answered, his grin wide. Grimmjow chuckled again and looked back at his paperwork as he shuffled the loose slips of paper on his desk.

"As you do after every sermon, Shawlong. You know I'm just waiting for the day when you finally stop bringing that up."

Shawlong laughed.

"Well you'll have to wait for a long while yet, Grimmjow. As always you conducted the liturgy perfectly. I know it may be selfish of me to say so, but I truly am grateful for one that you've turned out to be the fine young priest you are today. It gives an old man hope." He replied kindly. Grimmjow lifted his head, his smile softening at the older man.

"Don't get all sappy on me." He grinned. He received another chuckle from the black haired man. Grimmjow was about to continue when Shawlong spoke up yet again.

"Also there is a young man out there who asked to see you. He attended the sermon this morning and he approached me when it concluded. I do believe he's here for the interview about Father Louisenbairn's old position." The older man announced. Grimmjow blinked.

"Really?" He asked, genuine surprise in his tone. He was met with another nod from his fellow clergyman.

Since the retirement of Father Louisenbairn three months ago, the chapel was under pressure to find another pastor for the Friday night sermons. And since Karakura Town was so far away from the rest of the cities, being a quiet hub of a village just over two hours' drive away from any other major suburb, hardly anyone had applied – or those who did were turned down as they either had little to no experience or they cancelled last minute. So to hear that someone had turned up today after the liturgy to apply for the post… Grimmjow would be lying if he said he wasn't shocked to some extent. He was glad, yes, but it was still interesting news to him.

"I guess I'd better head out there then." The blue haired pastor spoke up, rubbing the back of his neck as he made to stand from his chair. Shawlong stepped aside to allow the younger man to pass by him, and he fell into step beside the blue haired priest as they navigated through the short corridor leading back towards the front of the chapel.

"He seems eager, whoever this young man is. Pleasant young chap, very polite and quite confident." Shawlong continued, a smile spreading over his lips. Grimmjow rose an eyebrow.

"Sounds promising." He mused. Shawlong nodded, pausing as they came to the archway leading out into the main foyer of the chapel, the black haired man extending his hand out towards the altar room.

"I told him to wait out here. I'll be looking forward to your opinion of him." The man spoke quietly, Grimmjow nodding his thanks to his fellow pastor and striding back towards the marble lined floor of the central room of the chapel. Shawlong returned the way they had come, resuming his cleaning duties.

The chapel felt oddly silent after the particularly noisome liturgy of the morning, everyone else now having left the holy house and returned back to the centre of town to either go home or head off to work. His steps echoed through the high ceilinged room, and Grimmjow found himself breathing in deeply – savouring the peace and quiet. He loved it most when the chapel was empty – it allowed him time with his thoughts, and he could think more clearly. Sometimes he wondered if that was the reason he had become a priest in the first place.

As he passed the towering effigy of Jesus Christ, the alabaster statue's head bowed against the cross, Grimmjow heard movement from close by and he turned his head. Seeing the figure of a man inspecting the tapestries aligned upon the walls by the aisles, the blue haired priest allowed himself to pause and watch the newcomer momentarily – the man evidently having not noticed him arrive.

He was tall, roughly about the same height as Grimmjow himself, and his form was lean and slender. Grimmjow could just make out the man's face as he saw him stand there gazing at the embroidered scene of Jesus gathering his disciples. His features were handsome yet youthful – appearing even younger than Grimmjow himself – and his skin was pale. His hair was straight and reached his shoulders, his locks a light shade of honey blond with stray bangs brushing over his right eye. His eyes were a deep amber brown, and he wore thin black glasses settled on the bridge of his nose; they seemed to accentuate the long black lashes bordering the man's eyelids and overall the frames gave him a rather scholarly appearance.

Said eyes swept back and forth over the tapestries, and the blond's fine eyebrows frowned faintly in evident thought as he crossed his arms over his chest. Grimmjow rose an eyebrow, having half a mind to ask the man what he thought was so interesting about the décor, but he held back the urge and instead strode forwards, his footsteps echoing on the marble tiles.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, you're the new applicant I presume?" He spoke up, a friendly grin forming on his lips. The man started and jumped, his eyes widening and a surprised gasp falling from his lips when he span around to see the priest approaching him. Grimmjow quickly rose both hands and waved them in front of him.

"Sorry – didn't mean to scare you." He apologised. The man regained his composure, a pleasant smile quickly forming over pale lips as he shook his head, turning away from the artwork and facing the pastor fully when Grimmjow walked up to him. Now that he could see him up close, Grimmjow found himself thinking that Shawlong had a point when he said the man seemed pleasant enough – there was a genuinely wide smile on the man's pale lips, and his eyes were kind.

"No, it's quite alright – I should be the one apologising. I didn't hear you approach." The man replied, offering a somewhat awkward chuckle at the end of his sentence as he slowly extended his hand out to the taller man. His voice was soft and as pleasant as his grin, and Grimmjow couldn't help but smile as he held out his own hand and enclosed it around the pale fingers held out to him. They shook hands, and the smile softened on the newcomer's face as he held the priest's gaze sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it. Though may I ask what you found so interesting about those tapestries?" Grimmjow asked, his own voice rough and deep in comparison with the other's when he spoke again. He jerked his head towards the picture the blond had been studying up until that moment, causing another awkward chuckle to fall from the other man's lips in response.

"Oh, nothing really. I was just admiring the style." The man replied, smiling sheepishly yet again. Grimmjow chuckled.

"Fair enough. Art isn't really my thing, but I will admit it's better to look at than just a plain brick wall." The priest answered, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. The blond laughed – the sound light and airy.

"I was at the sermon this morning – it's an honour to meet you, Father Jaegerjaquez." He breezed out warmly. Grimmjow chuckled again, moving to cross his arms over his chest as he leant against the nearby pillar.

"Please, call me Grimmjow. Titles make my skin crawl." He grinned. The blond blinked.

"Is that really appropriate to do so? I mean we're—" His protest was cut off when Grimmjow rose a hand to quiet him down, the taller man rolling his eyes.

"Only when we're in sermon. Any other time and you can be as casual as you like. I'm more of the laidback type myself." He replied. He watched with amused intrigue as the blond rose an eyebrow for a moment before sighing and nodding, his brows furrowing as if he still dearly wished to argue his elder's words. Grimmjow smiled, tilting his head slightly as he regarded the man before him carefully.

"Shawlong told me you were with the rest of us this morning – you told him you wanted to apply for Father Louisenbairn's old position, yes?" He asked. The blond nodded.

"I do, Fa—uh, Grimmjow. I used to be part of a clergy when I was living in England and I just moved here recently for a fresh start. I thought I could hopefully offer my services to the best of what small abilities I have. It would help settle me down here in the village a little more, at least." He answered, his voice quiet. Grimmjow blinked.

"Really?" He asked, sounding impressed. The man nodded.

"I have to say that puts you pretty far ahead of the rest of the applicants we've had. Most of them had never worked for the church before and unfortunately Father Louisenbairn's position requires a great deal of experience to be able to keep up with the workload… what's your name?" Grimmjow asked.

The blond started, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he evidently realised he had yet to introduce himself. He cleared his throat, bowing lowly to the priest before him, his posture rigid and tense.

"Szayelaporro Granz, Fath—uh, Grimmjow." The words tumbled from his lips in such quick succession Grimmjow almost had trouble catching them all. He quirked an eyebrow, feeling thoroughly amused at the man's behaviour.

"—though most people just call me Szayel, I mean my name is kind of hard to pronounce and—" The man called Szayel was cut off by Grimmjow resting a hand on his shoulder, causing the blond to jump a little at the contact and shoot straight back up. In doing so he nearly collided his head with Grimmjow's.

"Woah, calm down!" Grimmjow exclaimed, laughing as he waved off the man's horrified gasps and attempts to apologise. He chuckled, removing his hand and stepping back as he pat the man on the shoulder again. He motioned for the other to follow him as he walked towards the back of the church. Feet shuffled nervously behind him, the blond fidgeting and wringing his hands as he followed.

"Sorry about that. Relax a bit, yeah? Just follow me and I'll take you on a quick tour of the place. By the way how old are you, Szayel?"

The man in question jumped again and glanced at the older man in front of him. He blinked.

"Twenty three." He answered. "Why?"

Grimmjow turned his head to gaze at the younger man, a blue eyebrow raising again.

"Really? Well that puts me at ease then, knowing there's someone finally around my age here. I'm twenty eight myself. Been the youngest here since, oh, God knows how long." He chuckled. His smile softened when he saw the younger man visibly relax slightly, his own smile slowly forming on his lips.

Seeing that he was on the right road here Grimmjow continued, guiding the blond further still towards the main altar. He extended his hand towards a door which was situated behind a petition screen off the left-hand side.

"Down there's the confessional and storerooms – the door's locked right now otherwise I would open it and show you in there. I think Shawlong has the key, though I'd rather not mess with him. Especially when he's on cleaning duty." He chuckled, his cyan eyes glinting mischievously. The blond beside him offered a nervous smile. Grimmjow turned around again, his strides long as he headed towards the corridor behind the arched doorway opposite the confessional which led to the adjoining offices.

"Obviously there's nothing else in the altar room except for the altar and the pews. We have our offices through here. It's not the biggest chapel around but it has some interesting little features like this all tucked away in the one building. Makes it really accessible for the clergy and the churchgoers seeing as we're such a small close-knit community anyway." Grimmjow announced, his rough voice growing louder as he strolled down the corridor. Szayel was watching him, the man looking very interested with all that he was being told.

"Do you get many people coming in for confessions?" He asked, somewhat shyly. Grimmjow blinked, turning his head to eye the blond.

"I was just wondering because the door was locked…" The younger man quickly elaborated, giving another nervous chuckle. Grimmjow considered the question and shrugged his shoulders as he slouched slightly, his hands stuffing into his jeans pockets as they walked.

"More or less. Lately though we haven't had to open it. It's mostly around Christmastime or when there's been a death in the town that we have to help console those who come seeking some form of solace." The priest answered, his expression thoughtful. Szayel fell silent momentarily.

"I see…" He mumbled at length. He caught Grimmjow looking at him again and he quickly waved his hands in front of him in some attempt to make the other forget about what he had said. "Sorry, I was just curious is all. In England we would have confessions almost every day and so to find out it's not so commonplace here was quite surprising to me." He hastily explained.

Grimmjow's lips pulled apart into a wide grin.

"Hey, relax. It's alright to be curious. You're the one who applied for the job here after all – it's only fair I answer whatever questions you have. Keep asking and I'll keep answering – unless it's something I don't know in which case I'll just grab Shawlong from wherever he disappeared to and get him to help you instead. The man can talk the hind legs off a donkey but he's one of the most knowledgeable people I've ever met." He chuckled.

Szayel's lips twitched into the slightest of smiles, and Grimmjow almost felt relieved to see the man slowly appear to come out of his shell of slight insecurity. They fell into silence momentarily, and it wasn't until they had reached the far end of the corridor that the priest had paused, sweeping his hand out to indicate the door which was open along their right-hand side.

"This is where the offices are. They're more like multiple blocks of rooms built into the side of the chapel. They're small but they're tidy and effective." He announced, smiling and taking a step down the new hallway. Szayel smiled, his amber brown eyes gazing overhead as he followed the older man down the relatively larger passage.

It was obvious this was an extension of sorts – the walls made with plaster and brick rather than the greyed granite of the rest of the chapel. The air smelt less musky than the chapel itself, and streams of sunlight shone against the white walls and bore down against the carpet they walked upon. Next to them there were doors marked with names which were either closed or open – evidently the offices belonging to each of the clergymen. Grimmjow gave a wide grin and nodded his head to Shawlong when he passed by the man's office, the black haired priest merely raising his eyebrow at the pair of them when they walked on.

Chuckling good naturedly, Grimmjow turned his attention to a door which was third from the left at the end of the corridor.

"This was Father Louisenbairn's office." He explained as he reached out, turning the handle and pushing the door inwards. Szayel flashed him a bright and grateful smile, the man stopping in the entranceway as his dark eyes gazed around the small office space.

"It isn't much, but if you do decide you'll go for the job in the end this'll be yours for however long you're with us." Grimmjow's rough voice cut across the silence as he leant against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the blond man stride through slowly, his eyes taking in the small yet tidy desk, the computer seated on the pinewood table and the filing cabinets filled with church registry nestled by the door. There was silence for a moment until the blond nodded, turning around and smiling again as he gazed back at the older man.

"Thank you." He replied. Grimmjow regarded him carefully.

"So you're sure you still want the job?" He asked. The blond nodded once more, his smile widening. Grimmjow grinned as he pulled away from the wall and beckoned for the younger man to follow him again.

"Good to hear – just follow me to my office and I'll get the paperwork and all that obligatory nonsense." He spoke up. Szayel fell into step beside him again, glancing around with intrigue once more as the two turned into the last door on the right along the corridor.

Grimmjow's office was the same as the others they had seen, though with some small differences here and there in the form of newspaper clippings framed on the walls detailing local sports teams. Szayel turned to study them carefully whilst the blue haired man strode over to his desk, bending down slightly to rummage through the paper drawer. He made a triumphant noise when he located the elusive sheets and he placed them atop his workspace.

Szayel walked over to him, the blond sitting himself down in the chair facing the table when Grimmjow indicated for him to do so.

"Right, that's about it. Just have a look at that and let me know if there's anything you're unsure of. It's a fairly straightforward job – just work the Friday night liturgies and help organise the special communions and sermons we have every so often. The wages are all there on the first page, as well as the hours expected to work." Grimmjow grunted out as he sat down, sighing and running a hand through the tousled mass of his hair as he waited for the blond to finish reading, Szayel having picked up the contract and running his eyes over the pages in his hand.

"There's certainly a lot being asked of here." The younger man's tone sounded amused as he slowly lifted his head some ten minutes later, his amber brown eyes glinting behind his glasses. "I'm beginning to think it's no wonder your previous priest retired."

Grimmjow barked a laugh, his lips pulling apart into a wide grin.

"S'probably why we had so many people cancel on us too." He agreed, his cyan eyes shining with mirth. "Though Father Louisenbairn retired because of illness. Dunno what illness exactly… but none of the rest of the clergy really got on with him anyway." Grimmjow winked, snickering to himself. Szayel's lips quirked into an amused smile, and the younger man allowed a soft chuckle of his own to fall from his mouth.

"I find that quite unusual for a priest to say such a thing about one of their own." He answered. Grimmjow scoffed.

"Yeah well he was a bit of an odd one." He shrugged. Presently though he sobered up, his gaze now becoming serious. His brows furrowed in concern. "Do you think you'll be able to handle all that?" He asked quietly.

Szayel ran his eyes back over the contract, the man chewing his lip in thought as he fell silent again. Presently he nodded, raising his gaze again and offering a reassuring smile to the best of his ability.

"It's certainly a bit more than what I'm used to, but I'm sure it won't be too difficult." He replied. Grimmjow smiled, seeming satisfied with this response as he leant back in his chair.

"Good. That's what I like to hear. I suppose all that's left to do now is have you sign that and introduce you to the rest of the clergy." He answered. His grin widened.

"Welcome to our church, Father Granz."

* * *

The barman looked up when the door to the pub opened, the raucous calls and laughter of its patrons spilling out onto the street outside. A wide grin formed on his moustached lips, and olive green eyes glinted as the brunet waved at the pair who even now were carefully edging their way towards him past the precariously placed tables and chairs, the patrons so clumped together it was almost impossible to walk in any straight line.

"Well, well, well if it isn't the old Father!" The middle aged man called out, laughing cheerily as he ushered them over. The man with the bright blue hair cracked a grin, his smile cheeky as he strode over.

"Oi, I'm not old  _yet_ , Kyouraku." Grimmjow scoffed. The man called Kyouraku gave a rumbling laugh, the barman picking up the washcloth he had lying on the counter and stuffing it inside one of the freshly washed glasses he was holding in his left hand.

"I know son, I was just messing with you." He chortled. He paused when he saw the blond man standing next to the pastor. "Who's this? Don't think I've seen you around here before." He smiled. Grimmjow gave another wide grin, gesturing from Szayel to the older man behind the counter.

"Kyouraku, I'd like you to meet Szayel. He's the new priest in town – just got the job today and I offered to show him around a bit. Thought we'd might get something to eat here as well." He announced.

Kyouraku's smile grew and he extended his hand to the blond, Szayel offering a pleasant smile in return as he shook the man's hand.

"Well isn't that a piece of news?" The barman exclaimed. "Nice to meet you, Father! You took over from Louisenbairn I take it?" He asked. Szayel nodded.

"Yes, that's right." He smiled. Kyouraku chuckled.

"It's about time. We've been needing a new priest for ages." He sighed wistfully. "When did you arrive here in this dreary little town?"

"Just a few days ago." The blond answered, laughing softly. Kyouraku grinned and looked like he was about to speak up again when he was stopped, caught by the amused look Grimmjow was giving him.

"What?" He asked, blinking. Grimmjow rolled his eyes.

"Plenty of time for talk later, Kyouraku. Do you have a table or not?" He laughed. Kyouraku almost jumped in surprise.

"OH! Shit, sorry you two. You know me – once I start talking I can't stop." He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck and grinning sheepishly. He then lowered his hand and motioned for the two to follow him, the man's voice rumbling easily over the noise of the patrons as he guided the two priests towards the staircase separating the two floors of the pub. The pastors nodded and returned smiles and waves as some of the more rowdy villagers called out to them, asking how they were or promising to show up for next week's sermon on time, and Grimmjow shot an apologetic smile to the younger man beside him when they had finally ascended to the top landing.

"They're nice enough people but give them plenty to drink and they're a real handful alright." He mumbled under his breath. Szayel chuckled, thanking the barman as he showed them to a booth which was situated in the far corner of the top dining room – they appeared to be the only two patrons up here at this time of evening, and inwardly the priests were thankful for that. It would give them some time to talk over things properly.

"I think they're just glad to see the priest they seem to admire so much." Szayel mused, looking at the blue haired man as Grimmjow sat opposite him at the booth when Kyouraku swept back off towards the stairs, the long haired brunet saying he would be back in a few minutes to take their orders.

Grimmjow mulled over the younger man's words and he shrugged, glancing over the menu as he picked it up from the oak table. The dining room they were in was warm – pleasantly so as the stone fireplace in the centre kept away the chill from the glass windowpanes – and was furnished in shades of deep brown and reds, the walls and floor made of polished wood. The sound of the patrons below was muffled due to the space between the first floor and the second, the top dining room for this reason used mainly for more private dinner functions, or for people like the two priests seated down who preferred to talk over quiet meals without having to raise their voices to be heard.

The local pub was thankfully not as busy on Sunday nights as it was the rest of the week, and it was hence the reason why Grimmjow had offered to take Szayel here when they had finished at the chapel earlier that afternoon, so they could be given the chance to get to know one another a little better seeing as they would now be working together on a daily basis. The blond had eagerly accepted, and as soon as Grimmjow had finished his chapel duties and Shawlong had given Szayel the rest of the documents to sign, they had left and walked through the quiet town towards the bar.

Szayel glanced around the quiet dining room once again, taking in the cosy surroundings with a small smile on his lips before turning to gaze at his own menu, his brows crinkling a little in thought as he read what was on offer. It was all hearty and wholesome foods this time of year seeing as it was quickly approaching winter, and on a chilly night like tonight nothing sounded more appetising than a home-made stew or soup.

"To be honest it gets a bit tedious sometimes. I mean don't get me wrong I love my job but… sometimes I can't help but wish I'd be treated more like myself rather than just as a priest." Grimmjow sighed, running a hand through his tousled locks as he sat back on his chair. Szayel glanced up at him, being dragged back to the conversation. He frowned.

"That's why you asked me to skip the formalities earlier I take it?" He asked softly. Grimmjow gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and nodded. Szayel continued to gaze at the other man carefully for a moment longer, a slow smile spreading over his lips as he too sat back in his chair. He crossed one leg over the other and leant his head back against the headrest, regarding his fellow priest with a pointed expression. Grimmjow blinked.

"What?" He asked. Szayel chuckled.

"Why don't you just ask them to address you like that, then?" He asked. Grimmjow sighed.

"It's not that easy. It goes against everything proper these people hold dear… I only put up with it in sermon because it's expected of me, but…" He trailed off, shrugging his shoulders again. Szayel rose an eyebrow.

"You don't come across to me as being the type of person who cares for rules." He mused. Grimmjow cracked a faint grin and leant his elbows on the table, the man rubbing his face tiredly.

"Yeah… you'd be right about that." He mumbled out, his voice slightly muffled under his hands. Szayel continued to gaze at him, his brows creasing faintly in concern.

"… How about we order our food now? Then you can tell me all about it if you'd like." The blond spoke up, his tone cheery as he picked up the menu again. Grimmjow raised his head, seeming thankful for the brief change in conversation, and he stifled a yawn as he ran his eyes back over the food list.

"Sounds good. Man I'm tired. I don't even know how long I've been up. I'm surprised I'm still awake right now to be honest." The blue haired man grunted out. Szayel placed his menu down and looked back at his fellow priest.

"Late night last night?" He guessed. Grimmjow stifled another yawn and nodded.

"Yeah… I was a bit behind on some of the registry and I wanted to get it finished before I handed it in to Shawlong this morning. Let's be honest, he'd kill me if I gave him anything less than completed." He snorted.

"Are you sure you're both priests?" Szayel laughed, straightening back up in his chair when the barman from earlier came walking back up the stairs. Grimmjow winked at the blond and picked up his menu again.

"I think so." He grinned, chuckling when he looked up as Kyouraku swept over, pen and notepad in hand.

"Ready to order lads or are you still in the middle of giving God's blessing?" The brunet breezed out cheerfully as he clicked his pen. Grimmjow rolled his eyes.

"I'll give  _you_ God's blessing if you don't watch it." He chuckled. Kyouraku grinned, his pen poised over his paper as he patiently waited for the two to state their orders.

"I'll just have the steak tonight, thanks." Grimmjow announced. Kyouraku nodded, writing out the order and then looking to the blond as soon as he had finished.

"I'll have the same." Szayel smiled, grabbing the menus and handing them to the brunet. Kyouraku thanked him and made to turn around to head back downstairs.

"Good choices this evening, boys! The lads were insisting free drinks for you all so I'll come back with some house red!" He called back, waving and whistling a lazy tune to himself as he jogged back down the staircase. Both priests rose an eyebrow and they glanced to one another as soon as he had left.

"That was nice of them." Szayel mused. Grimmjow looked impressed.

"I'll say. I don't normally go for the reds myself, but if it's their shout then why not?" He grinned. Szayel chuckled, the blond glancing out the window next to him and idly watching the light dusting of rain sprinkling the cement pavement outside. Grimmjow turned his head to look at what had his younger friend so intrigued, and he sighed.

"The weather's been terrible lately." He grumbled. Szayel nodded, giving a sigh of his own as he turned to face his attention fully on the blue haired man.

"God's blessing?" He grinned, his tone teasing. Grimmjow rolled his eyes again.

"Not you too." He groaned. Szayel laughed, the man snickering when the blue haired priest gave a friendly kick to his knee under the table.

"I thought this was a chance to get away from the church for a bit, not the other way round." Grimmjow chuckled. Szayel simply shrugged, his expression deeply amused behind his black glasses.

"Well when you're in our line of work…" He began. Grimmjow sighed, waving the comment off.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. Shut up." He laughed again. Sharing a wide grin, the two lifted their heads when the barman reapproached, still humming that same tune from his lips as he precariously swayed two filled glasses of red wine on the tray in his hands.

"House red, as promised." He announced, placing the glasses down and miraculously not managing to spill a single drop onto the table. He gave a lazy grin and lifted his hand in a wave as he then turned on his heel and strode back off. "Food's on its way, lads."

"Are you a regular here? He seems to know you quite well." Szayel mused, picking up his glass of wine and slowly taking a sip. Grimmjow smiled.

"I normally come here on weekends like this when I have a moment to myself." He replied, drinking from his own glass. "Though it's a small town. Everyone knows everyone here. It's not like the city."

Szayel blinked.

"You were a city boy I take it then?" He asked. Grimmjow nodded, his smile turning grim.

"Yeah… born and raised in the capital. Hated it." He made a face. Szayel's expression was understanding, the blond giving a slight nod.

"I didn't really like the city myself, either." He agreed. Grimmjow gazed at him with renewed interest.

"City kid too, eh?" He grinned. "Looks like we have more in common than I thought."

Szayel gave a wide grin, his attention being diverted when at last the brunet barman strode back up the stairs, carrying two plates of sizzling hot steak. The smell of the meat was mouth-watering, and both priests couldn't hide the smiles on their faces when the plates were placed down.

"This looks great, thanks Shunsui." Grimmjow grinned. The brunet chuckled.

"Enjoy your meals, boys. Give my thanks to the Lord and all that." He waved, throwing his head back in laughter when Grimmjow retorted quite loudly with something along the lines of where he could take his thanks and stick it if he didn't stop it anytime soon.

"If I haven't said it before I'll say it now – you're certainly the most unusual priest I've ever met." Szayel spoke up cheerily when the man had left. Grimmjow turned back to his friend and shrugged.

"Say what you will Szayel, it doesn't change a thing." He smiled satisfactorily. "Don't get me wrong I love the Lord and all that jazz, but Sunday is a day of rest and if a priest can't even get that rest, then I might hand my cassock in one day." He grinned. "Now hurry up and eat or I'll have your steak for you. Waste not, want not as they say." He winked.

Szayel rose an eyebrow, the man otherwise not saying anything else as he chuckled quietly and picked up his knife and fork, the two men falling into a brief silence as they began to tuck in to their hearty meal.

* * *

As the night gradually drew on, the crowded bar area of the pub's first floor gradually lessening in patrons as they rambled drunkenly out onto the streets, the two priests were meanwhile still engaged in conversation above, their food finished and only their drinks remaining.

They were both feeling fully satisfied from such a filling meal, and the flames in the fireplace continued to crackle merrily away in the fire grate. Their wine was almost finished, Grimmjow having ordered another one whilst Szayel was just draining off the last of his first glass. As he placed it back down upon the table he sighed quietly and leant back against the chair, drumming his fingertips idly against the bench.

"So what  _did_ make you decide to become a priest?" He asked. Grimmjow blinked as his attention was brought back to the conversation they had just been having, and his gaze became thoughtful as he leant forwards and rested his chin in his hand, his elbow upon the tabletop.

"It's a bit of a long story really." He began, his deep voice almost unusually quiet. Szayel smiled.

"We have all night." He pointed out. Grimmjow flashed him a grin.

"You mean  _you_ do. You're not the one who was up until four last morning." He reminded the blond. Szayel shrugged his shoulders, tracing his fingertips now upon the outside rim of his empty wine glass. Grimmjow watched for a moment, his expression becoming thoughtful. Eventually he sighed and turned his gaze back to the window, taking in the now pitch-dark of the outside town, the only light being that of the flickering streetlamps.

It was some time until he continued.

"I dunno… like I said I was a city kid. Grew up in the outskirts of town. I don't remember what happened to my mother… she probably died as soon as I was born. My dad, well… I'm better off without him." He began, his gaze darkening considerably at the end of his sentence. Grimmjow paused, picking up his nearly empty wine glass and draining a few more drops of the ruby red liquid.

"Really? The outskirts?" Szayel's tone was shocked, and Grimmjow smiled grimly when he turned his head and caught the almost horrified expression in those amber brown eyes. He nodded.

"Yep. And I'm talking about  _the_ outskirts. The place was overrun with crime, drugs, prostitution… you name it. I'm pretty sure I don't need to point out that it wasn't exactly the best environment for a kid to grow up in." He answered bitterly. Szayel narrowed his eyes in concern and he shook his head. Grimmjow sighed.

"My dad was in one of the gangs they had running the place. Every night I'd remember he'd come back home and if he wasn't beating me, he was bringing home some whore off the street and having his way with her in the next room. Or in the same room a couple of times." Grimmjow shuddered. "That's not exactly something a kid should ever see. Of course it was worse when he'd actually end up killing a few of them if they didn't satisfy him…"

Szayel's eyes widened and the man lifted a hand to his mouth, stifling a horrified gasp. Grimmjow saw this out the corner of his eyes and he nodded, his gaze becoming hard.

"I couldn't live with that, Szay. I was twelve when I finally left. Snuck out one night when he was beating one girl senseless. I could hear her screams for miles when I ran out that door… sometimes I swear the sound haunts me at night… it was… horrible." His voice became deathly quiet and it was a while until he could continue. "I made a living by falling in with some other kids who'd been kicked out onto the gutters. We had to steal to eat, and if we were lucky we'd find some rundown shack to sleep in. The cops didn't care for anyone out there… they figured that since the crime rate was so high, we'd just end up killing each other off and save them the trouble of doing it themselves." He paused again, sighing deeply. Szayel was listening to every word intently, the man chewing his bottom lip as he continued to gaze with extreme concern at the blue haired man in front of him.

Grimmjow absentmindedly ran his fingers over his wine glass, tipping it gently from side to side.

"I was fortunate enough one day to be taken in by a man travelling with his wife through that hellhole. They were part of the church and they were trying to spread God's word through the outskirts… they were the kind of people who were so naïve… but they were always smiling, y'know? I loved them. They didn't know anything about life in the underground. They thought they could just turn everyone away from crime with a gentle word and a slip of paper telling them to read the Bible. Ah but they were great… I felt like I'd finally found a proper home." His smile softened, and Grimmjow looked back out the window again. Szayel noticed though that the smile wasn't reaching the priest's eyes.

"They died. Five years after they picked me up off the street. The wife caught pneumonia… they didn't believe in getting medical treatment as they thought that God would take care of her and make her better… the husband was always kneeling by her side, praying night after night… but she just never made it. I think that was one of the only times I'd ever cried… I screamed myself hoarse at the sky that night… cursing God, cursing everything in the world… the man I'd come to think of as my father just took me back inside when I'd finished and kept me close to him all night. He didn't say a word about his wife's death… he didn't cry, he didn't yell… he was a strong-willed man and I looked up to that. He made me promise to keep my chin up, and I tried my best… we buried her the next morning."

He smiled morosely at Szayel as he turned his full attention back to the blond. He leant against his chair, running a hand through his tousled locks.

"He was stabbed to death a month after his wife's death. He was out doing his church rounds one morning and some thugs broke into the chapel and killed him. I didn't find out until the next day when the police finally came knocking on our door… I felt hollow inside. Now I had no parents, I had no home… I was going to get shipped off to an orphanage and I didn't want that. So I ran again. Found myself a job at a garage. Became a mechanic. You don't realise how much life changes you when you go from being a scared defenceless little kid who had to steal to stay alive, into a foul-mouthed, grease-stained layabout who started looking for fights instead of preventing them. I was a really messed up kid… if I could have ended it all I probably would have." The man scoffed derisively, lifting his glass again and finally draining off the last of its contents.

Throughout this all Szayel continued to remain silent, the blond at an utter loss for words. This man's past was tragic… heartbreakingly so.

"... Was it through that that you found God?" He asked, his voice so soft and quiet Grimmjow almost didn't catch his words.

"Yeah." The blue haired priest replied at length, his rough voice strained somewhat. "I did plenty of things I wasn't proud of. I needed to escape… one night I just found myself in a church and I guess that's when I decided I'd try to shape myself up for good. Turn my life around. It's funny what praying to something you don't even believe in does to you." He chuckled drily. "Now five years later here I am. I guess I'm just doing my best to make sure this kind of thing doesn't happen any more… I've lost a lot and I've seen the world at its worst… I'd die before I see it happen again."

Despite the gravity of the situation Szayel found a smile forming at the corners of his lips.

"I admire that kind of commitment." He spoke up. Grimmjow gave a tired smile.

"Whatever helps you get through the day." He shrugged. The blond gave a quiet chuckle and then sighed.

"I really am sorry to hear about that… I know it probably doesn't mean anything in the slightest but…"

Grimmjow waved it off.

"Nah, it means a lot more than you think. Thank you." He replied sincerely. Szayel managed another faint smile and he nodded. Grimmjow continued to gaze at the blond for a moment, then he folded his arms behind his head.

"What about you?" He asked, his tone slightly louder now to indicate the change in subject. "That's my sad story. How'd you end up in the church?"

The blond elicited a lengthy sigh and he ran a hand through the locks sweeping over his right eye.

"My story's probably not much better than yours." He mumbled. Grimmjow shrugged.

"Won't know till we hear it now, will we?" He rose an eyebrow. Szayel chuckled wistfully.

"Well I also grew up in the city… though nothing like where you were raised. My brother Yylfordt and I lived with our parents in a townhouse in London. As soon as we finished school we decided we'd join the church and sign up as priests. Our parents had very active roles in the church themselves, so I suppose it was thanks to them that both Yylfordt and I even decided to step near the clergy in the first place… we were assigned to a little community outside London. They were the typical churchgoers – good people with good hearts and all closely-knit like Karakura Town here. I loved it." The blond began. Grimmjow regarded him carefully.

"What made you leave England?" He asked. Szayel's expression darkened.

"At the beginning of last year things started to become quite icy with my parents and me. Yylfordt had caught a bad case of the flu and he was bedridden for months… it quickly developed into pneumonia. He wasn't vaccinated and the nearest hospital was a three hour drive… before we could get the doctor down he… passed away. In his sleep." Szayel swallowed thickly and he buried his head in his hands. Grimmjow felt his heart lurch and he was half-tempted to reach out and place a hand on the man's shoulder.

"… I'm so sorry." He whispered. Szayel scoffed a bitter laugh.

"Oh believe me I was too. Yylfordt was the favourite son… we were twins, but despite that it was always him who'd get the praise, always him who'd be the first to comfort mother or father if they were feeling upset. I tried, Grimmjow… I really tried, believe me… but no matter what I did it was never good enough. I always knew my parents resented me… deep down, though they didn't show it outwardly. I was the odd one out… I liked to prove things wrong and half of the reason why I took up my role in the clergy was because I studied science and symbology in university. I thought that maybe if I became closer to God I could somehow prove that he didn't exist in the way we think he does… and look where it got me. A dead brother and parents who threw me out of the house blaming me for his death because they thought I was the cause of everything wrong that happens in the world." He was almost choking on his words now, a single silvery tear tracking down his cheeks past his fingertips.

Grimmjow was at a loss for words.

"How can they think that you were the cause of your own brother's death?!" He rasped out. Szayel slowly lifted his head, his expression angry.

"That's what I've been asking myself every day since he passed. I hated my parents for that. I still do. Couldn't they see that I was hurting just as much as they were? That I was mourning too?! I grew up never knowing proper love or affection, Grimmjow. The closest thing I ever had to that was my brother, and he left me like that. Just went to a place where I couldn't follow. I'm sure you know exactly how I feel." He answered sharply. Grimmjow's eyes narrowed and he nodded. That was true alright.

Szayel sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. When he spoke up his voice had regained its usual calm tone and he was quiet once more.

"It was after I was kicked out that I decided to make a new start in life. I wandered around for a bit, always sticking to the church. I discovered that the more I worked as a priest the less I found myself wanting to disprove the theories I had about religion… it turned into me wanting to be a  _part_ of this religion. At least then there was a way for people to come together and be comforted whenever they needed a shoulder to cry on. I found that helping others allowed me to fill the hole in my heart Yylfordt's death caused… so I came here. I heard that a new priest was needed, and after leaving the last town I was in… I was all ready to sign up." He finished, lifting his gaze to lock eyes with Grimmjow again.

Grimmjow held the man's gaze, his blue eyes regarding the blond before him carefully. At length he sighed, making to stand from his seat.

"Death'll do that to anyone." He muttered under his breath. Szayel heard the comment and he nodded, the younger man now looking incredibly weary as he followed Grimmjow in standing from the booth they had been seated at for the past few hours.

They were silent as they strode down the stairs, only speaking again when the barman bid them a good night and a cheery thanks for coming. Even when they had finally managed to walk out the door the pair remained standing in the centre of the street, their hands in their coat pockets and neither of them making any move to head home just yet.

Presently it was Szayel who broke the silence.

"Thanks for tonight, Grimmjow." He spoke up, managing a faint smile as he turned to the blue haired pastor. "It was good to finally get all that off my chest."

Grimmjow cracked a small grin and he nodded.

"No worries. I gotta say I feel the same. It's been ages since I've managed to just sit down and properly  _talk_ to someone, you know?"

Szayel's smile widened and the blond chuckled.

"Tell me about it. I really am thankful for that… though I should probably start heading off now I'm afraid. If you ever want to do something like this again just let me know and I'd be more than happy to tag along." He lifted his hand in a wave as he turned his back, the blond already making to walk down the deserted street towards his house. Grimmjow gave a soft grin and he returned a wave of his own.

"Will do. See you around, Father." He snickered when he saw the blond turn his head and flash a playful smirk at him, the sigh of exasperation falling from the younger man's lips audible even from where Grimmjow was standing.

The blue haired man chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets and sighing in content as the cool breeze whipped at his hair, a sense of complete and utter satisfaction settling over him as he strolled leisurely down the dark street.

* * *

The moon had risen high in the sky and nothing moved in the village of Karakura Town. The air was cold and the streetlights flickered merrily away, the hands of the village clock approaching almost two in the morning.

It was at this time that she had decided to go for yet another evening stroll, her sleep once again interrupted by vivid dreams which left her unable to rest for fear of being kept awake for the rest of the night. She needed fresh air to clear her mind, and there was no better time to seek one's own privacy out of one's own home than a walk in the park when everything was deserted and shrouded in the inky blackness of night.

She hummed a quiet tune under her breath as she briskly paced along, her breath escaping her lips in faint wisps of fog. She rubbed her hands, wondering why on earth she had forgotten to bring her gloves, and she dug them deeply into the pockets of her winter coat. Crickets could be heard chirping in the grass of the parklands around her, and the branches of the trees swayed in the wind which leisurely whipped through their leaves. The stars dotted the sky with the illumination of the moon – what others may have found somewhat eerie, she thought was absolutely beautiful.

She breathed in deeply as the crisp pre-winter's air filled her lungs, ignoring the bite of the cold on her cheeks, and she continued to hum pleasantly away as her footsteps echoed softly on the cement walkway the closer she approached the outskirts of the village.

It had been some ten or so minutes that she had been quietly strolling along, half-debating whether or not to sit down on the nearby park bench when she heard it. She paused, her brows creasing as she blinked, lifting her head to try and catch the source of the sound.

It was faint, far away, yet it was still just audible enough for her to make out the low sound of something other than the merry singing of the crickets hidden in the grass. She remained standing, wondering if it was just a figment of her imagination when the noise faded away for a while, and she was just about to proceed onwards when she was stopped yet again.

Whatever it was, the sound had certainly started once more.

She stood frozen still, straining her ears as she focused on what was, by now, certainly something which seemed far too real for it to be her imagination. She bit her lip – it was low, yet loud enough to be heard from this far away in the park. It was probably coming from one of the houses on the borders of the village… but who on earth would be making such a noise at  _this_ time of night?

She was contemplating whether or not to change her course to start walking over there when an audible gasp fell from her lips. Her eyes widened tenfold, and she hastily bit her knuckles to keep herself from screaming out in horror.

The sound had risen, higher now into loud repeated cries. Over and over, breathless like whoever it was making those sounds was being… tortured… in some way. She felt sick and her knees began to tremble. Her heart began to pound quickly in her chest, so much so that the sound of her blood pumping in her ears was almost enough to drown out the loud scream which suddenly erupted and echoed through the night in ear-splitting clarity.

That was all it took.

Her feet stampeding wildly against the pavement she ran, barely holding back a cry of her own. She gripped the cross she wore around her neck, praying to the Lord that He should save this town from the evil which was no doubt spreading through it.

Those sounds were surely not of any human making.

Before long she found herself screaming.

"HELP! SOMEONE! ANYONE! DEMONS!"

* * *

Grimmjow smiled as he stepped back from the lectern, yet another Sunday sermon finishing without a hitch. He gazed at the rows of smiling faces, the villagers laughing and calling amongst themselves to one another as they slowly piled out of the chapel.

He was dragged into short conversation with the few that had called him over to speak with him, and the blue haired pastor merely chuckled and shook his head when they congratulated him on yet another service well done.

When he had finally managed to pull himself away for long enough he looked up in time to see a young man with blond hair and black glasses approaching, and his grin widened as he lifted his hand in a wave, beckoning the priest over.

"Afternoon, Szayel! Didn't think I'd see you 'til later on." He announced cheerily. Szayel laughed, drawing to a halt beside his friend.

"Well I had some time off so I thought I might as well drop by and see how you're going." He teased. Grimmjow rolled his eyes, reaching out to playfully punch the slender man in the shoulder.

"Alright, that's enough out of you." He snickered. Szayel simply flashed a wide grin and the pair exchanged final waves and smiles with the remaining worshippers, then excused themselves politely as they took their leave to begin their after mass preparations.

It had been a full three weeks to the day since Szayel had taken up Father Louisenbairn's position at the chapel, and Grimmjow found that he could not have made a better choice in employing the younger man. He was an instant success. It made the blue haired pastor's heart swell with pride when he would get the townspeople walking up to him on the street and congratulating him on their new clergy member, the man's Friday night sermons becoming the talk of the town.

Szayel was particularly popular with the younger villagers, and Grimmjow suspected it was because they were closer to his age group that the blond could connect so well with them. That and the fact that he used to have a brother himself, so he understood the inner workings of family. Grimmjow had never had any siblings, so to finally have someone around who could relate with the troubles of a young mind was quite helpful on the whole to both himself and the church.

They had been planning to go to the pub again later this evening to have another dinner together, and so Grimmjow was more than delighted that the blond had shown up to sit for one of his sermons this afternoon. It was unexpected, but most certainly not unwelcomed. And if the wide smile on his friend's lips was anything to go by the feeling was entirely mutual.

"So how's your weekend been so far, Szay?" Grimmjow asked as he blew out the candles on the altar, the blue haired man already making to grab the decorations atop the table and pulling them off. Szayel considered this, the blond picking up the Bible and moving the lectern to the side of the dais, resting it safely out of harm's way.

"To be honest, it's been uneventful. Friday night went by reasonably ok, but I'm all ready for an early night tonight." He laughed, stowing the Bible in the small bookcase they had built in next to the wall. Grimmjow chuckled.

"I promise I won't keep you out for too long tonight then." He replied. Szayel smiled, dusting himself off as he stood back up and followed the older man when Grimmjow had gathered all the ornaments from the altar and swept down the steps to begin his trek towards the storerooms.

"I appreciate it, Grimm. How's your week been?" He asked. The pair had approached the door leading to the chapel confessional, and Grimmjow fumbled around in the pockets of his cassock momentarily as he searched for the key. Szayel took the basket of cloths and crosses from Grimmjow's hands as he patiently waited, Grimmjow eliciting a triumphant "aha!" as he located the key and turned it in the lock of the arched doorway. He grinned as he stowed the key and took back the basket, and he thanked his friend as Szayel held the door open for him.

"Ah same old, same old. Shawlong's been riding my ass about getting the registry done on time. I keep telling him I'm busy, but he won't listen." He scowled. Szayel rose an eyebrow and he laughed again.

"Maybe I should do it for you then. At least I get things done on time." He breezed out. Grimmjow fixed a feigned glare at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Just because you're the new favourite priest around here." He snorted. Szayel grimaced.

"I hate it when people say that. It doesn't feel right." He mumbled. Grimmjow's gaze softened and he turned his attention back to the front, locating the black door which led to the storerooms. Around them the air was colder in here than in the rest of the chapel, the marble floor making their steps echo loudly as they walked upon its polished surface. Along the walls paintings of various religious scenes were hung, and the confessional boxes lining the wall were encased in their closed curtains until they were needed.

"That still won't change what others see in you." He spoke up, his rough voice soft as he pulled open the black door to reveal shelving littered with various religious ornaments for various sermons. He placed the basket he had been holding down onto the top shelf, then pulled back to close the door once more. He turned to face his friend.

"You're a good priest, Szayel. I keep getting told by people when they see me that they go to your Friday night sermons and you do a better job than Louisenbairn could ever do. You really connect with the younger people of this town and that's something Karakura has been needing for twelve years or more." He continued, grinning when he saw the faint flush of red form on the blond's cheeks.

"And it's not just them who think so highly of you. Shawlong does as well. But I'm fairly certain nothing anyone else feels could compare to the sense of pride I get when I see how well you're doing here. You're my friend, Szay. I couldn't be happier." Grimmjow finished, now looking quite proud. Szayel remained silent, the man's mouth open slightly in an almost comical 'o' shape.

Presently he seemed to blink himself out of his silence, and the wide smile which formed on his lips was almost akin to the smile of a child opening their presents on Christmas Day.

"Thank you…" He whispered. Grimmjow reached out to place a hand comfortingly on his shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze.

"Anytime." He winked, walking back out towards the corridor they had entered the confessional from. "Now then, if you still wanted to take yourself up on that offer to get the extra registry done, I'm heading to my office."

Szayel sighed, though he was unable to bite back the amused grin on his lips as he followed his friend.

"It's no wonder Shawlong keeps picking on you. Do you have any idea how lazy you are?" He mused. Grimmjow chuckled.

"Hey, I wasn't the one who offered to help me out in the first place." He reminded the younger man. Szayel groaned.

"Remind me to keep my mouth shut in the future." He grumbled. Grimmjow snorted a laugh, guiding the blond along with him as the pair strolled down towards the offices, walking past Shawlong who rose his hand in a wave to the duo. They returned it, though Grimmjow laughed somewhat nervously at the decidedly stern expression the black haired man was giving him. Szayel rolled his eyes, the blond turning to the filing cabinet as soon as the pair had entered the blue haired pastor's office, and Grimmjow was left blinking in surprise when the younger priest dropped the files onto his desk.

Grimmjow looked first from the files, then up to his friend, then back to files again.

"Aw come on…" He groaned. Szayel crossed his arms over his chest, his eyebrow raising again.

"I don't know why you're so surprised. You said you were coming in here to finish them anyway. And no, Grimmjow, I  _won't_ be doing them for you." He smirked. Grimmjow sighed, the man looking thoroughly disgruntled as he mumbled something under his breath, begrudgingly picking up the stacks of folders.

"Some friend you are…" He grunted loud enough for the other to hear him. Szayel simply shrugged his shoulders, sitting himself down in the chair opposite the man's desk and crossing one leg over the other.

"And since I'm such a good friend, I'm going to sit here and wait patiently while you finish all those off." He smirked wider. Grimmjow threw him a dirty look and went to pick up his pen. Szayel chuckled, his gaze softening.

"Did you want me to talk Shawlong into allowing you some coffee while you work?" He asked. Grimmjow's expression lightened considerably.

"That would be amazing, thanks." He replied eagerly. Szayel laughed again, standing up and making to walk out.

"I'll be back soon." He called out. Grimmjow nodded, running his eyes back over the profit listings and slowly getting to work on tallying up the day's earnings.

He had managed to get the first page almost done when Szayel returned, the blond flashing him a wide smile as he placed a cup of steaming hot coffee down on the table next to where Grimmjow's hand lay. In his own hands he held a cup of his own, and the blond sighed in content as he sat back down in the chair and began sipping slowly. Grimmjow grinned, picking up his coffee and blowing gently on it before drinking.

"Thanks for that, you're a real life saver." He spoke up when he had placed the mug back down. Szayel rolled his eyes.

"Grimmjow, I hardly think that a piece of paper is somehow going to put your life in danger." He reprimanded lightly. Grimmjow made a face at the registry.

"This one might though." He mumbled. Szayel sighed once more, this time in exasperation. The priests returned to their coffee, soon falling into a fit of soft chuckles when they met gazes. Grimmjow placed his coffee back down again and returned to his work, Szayel meanwhile feeling perfectly content just sitting there and waiting for him to finish.

"She's at it again." A voice sighed from close by, and both priests turned their heads to see Shawlong striding down the corridor towards Grimmjow's office, the black haired priest sporting a mug of coffee of his own.

"Who?" Grimmjow asked. Shawlong leant against the door and sipped from his mug.

"Have a guess."

Grimmjow audibly groaned.

"Oh you're kidding me…"

Shawlong shook his head sadly. Szayel blinked, the blond looking from one priest to the other.

"Who are we talking about?" He asked. The other two looked at him.

"Nelliel. She's been ranting to the town about demons for the past three weeks and just demanded an office with Father Jaegerjaquez again." Shawlong replied, a faint glint of amusement in his dark eyes. Grimmjow ran a hand over his face.

"I keep telling her it's just her imagination. She's really dead-set on it this time." He chuckled drily. Szayel on the other hand looked even more confused now than he had previously.

"Demons?" He echoed. Grimmjow nodded.

"Yeah. Don't get me wrong, Nelliel's a bright young thing but she's a bit on the… eccentric side." The blue haired pastor grimaced. Shawlong sipped from his coffee again.

"A few weeks ago she ran out to the centre of town and started screaming herself hoarse about hearing noises in the dark. Inhuman screaming, if you will. Though we don't really pay her any mind as she's always having vivid nightmares on a regular basis. She has some sort of medical condition which leaves her prone to these flights of ill-fancy as we've come to call them." The elderly man continued, his gaze settling on the blond.

Szayel rose an eyebrow.

"No one's tried to get her treatment?" He asked. The other two looked at one another and shrugged.

"She refuses it. We can't force her into something she doesn't want." Grimmjow replied simply. "So the doc just tells her to take her tablets when she feels like she really needs them. Most of the time she's alright but some nights she forgets to take them or something and she runs into the pub going on about a murder she saw, or a ghost she heard speaking to her, or three weeks ago a 'demonic presence preying on the innocent citizens of Karakura'." He scoffed. "I'm actually surprised you haven't heard about this yet." He looked at Szayel.

"Well I mostly spend my time here or at home… I don't really go out to the town much unless it's with you." The blond answered, blinking at his blue haired friend. Grimmjow shrugged.

"Fair enough." He replied. Szayel looked puzzled.

"Does she come to chapel often?" He asked. Grimmjow and Shawlong looked at one another.

"Most times, yeah. She's one of the more devout of this community. Though there're times when she can't make it because she's sleeping off the tablets she's been given." Grimmjow replied. "Why?"

Szayel frowned.

"I don't think I've seen her at my sermons." The young priest answered. Grimmjow's expression became grim.

"Ah, that's because she believes Friday is the 'devil's day'… to be honest half of the town doesn't even know what she's going on about half the time. We think it's because she was born on a Friday thirteenth that she hates it so much." The priest conceded. Shawlong pulled away from the wall and entered the office properly, seating himself down on the chair by the door.

"I told her you were currently in confession with someone." He announced. Grimmjow smiled gratefully at the older man.

"Thanks." He replied. Szayel looked concerned.

"And you're refusing to help her…?" He spoke up quietly. Grimmjow sighed.

"It's not that, Szay," he began, "we've tried helping her. Over and over. She comes here seeking confession and we give it to her but she never listens to us and comes back the next day ranting about the same thing. We've found that if we just let her sort out her own issues she calms down. Talking to us just doesn't seem to help in the slightest."

Szayel raised his coffee mug to his lips, still looking perplexed but otherwise not saying anything else.

"Though demons is a new one." Grimmjow continued after a moment, the man sounding deeply amused. Shawlong nodded his agreement.

"I feel sorry for the poor child. I only hope she somehow gets better soon… or if not that, at least decides she really should be going in for psychiatric treatment." The old priest added.

A silence settled over the three and Grimmjow went back into finishing off the last of the registry. Szayel's brows were crinkled deep in thought and Shawlong had his head leaning against the wall, his eyes closed. It was some few minutes later that the silence was broken by the sound of a pen being placed back atop the desk.

"Finished." Grimmjow announced at length, looking weary as he pushed the folder away from him. "That's this week's all done, Shawlong."

The man in question opened his eyes again and sat up, dusting himself off as he approached the desk and picked up the documents.

"You see you  _can_ actually do something if you put your mind to it, Grimmjow." He spoke up cheerily, earning a thoroughly unamused glare shot at him by the blue haired pastor in response.

"Yeah, yeah. Thank Szayel here." Grimmjow grumbled out. Szayel blinked, being drawn back to the conversation and he smiled good naturedly.

"You're welcome."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and grinned at him. Shawlong chuckled, striding back over to the door.

"I'll see you next sermon, boys. Go get yourselves some rest. You've earned it." He announced, lifting his hand in a wave as he departed. The remaining two priests watched him leave, then turned to face one another again. Grimmjow stretched his arms above his head, letting out a faint yawn as he flexed his limbs.

"Finally. You still ok with dinner tonight?" He asked, looking back down at the blond. Szayel stood from his chair.

"As far as I know." He smiled. "I'll see you at eight."

Grimmjow nodded, walking around his desk to the back of his door where he kept the hangar for his cassock.

"Sounds great. You go and get some rest – you've been looking pretty tired all morning." He spoke up as he unbuttoned his robes, pulling them over his head and then hanging them carefully up on the hangar, the man straightening out the folds of his shirt and jeans afterwards. He heard a soft sigh behind him.

"Was I really being that obvious?" Szayel muttered. Grimmjow glanced at him out the corner of his eyes.

"Nah, but I can still tell fatigue when I see it. I'm no stranger to late nights, remember?" He grinned. Szayel's lips pulled up into a slight smile.

"Don't worry about Nel, Szay. She's fine. It's nothing we haven't dealt with before and if the doc says she's ok doing whatever she's doing now for the most part, then it's fine." Grimmjow added, seeming to guess the source of the blond's concern in his amber brown eyes.

Szayel nodded.

"I'll try my best." He replied at length. Grimmjow rested a hand comfortingly on his shoulder again.

"Good, glad to hear it." He squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and then removed his hand. Szayel managed another smile and made to walk out.

"See you later, Grimm." He waved. Grimmjow returned the wave, sighing when his friend had disappeared down the end of the office corridor. He paused for a long moment, just standing there with his brows furrowed in concern.

He only wished he could do more to help – it was clear that the man was quite upset about the news of Nelliel. Heck, Grimmjow was as well. No matter how many times he told himself that they were helping the woman by keeping their distance from her, it never seemed to sit right with him. Of course they told her the church's doors were always open should she feel the need to find solace in the walls of the chapel, but as far as face-to-face communication went it was like the priests were talking to a wall. She was completely unresponsive and oblivious to everything around her.

Still, there was nothing unusual about her latest rant and with due time, give or take a few more days, it would completely roll over only to be replaced with something else. Running a hand through his hair Grimmjow remained behind in his office for a moment longer, putting away the rest of the files he had on his desk and checking to make sure everything was locked and in its place. Seeming satisfied he turned off the light, closing the door behind him and stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets as he walked down the corridor leading to the altar room.

By the sounds of things Shawlong had left as well, leaving Grimmjow the only one inside the chapel. Glancing at the clock on the nearby wall he noted it was nearing 6 in the evening, and the blue haired man wondered what he should do for the next 2 hours to keep himself occupied. He continued to mull this over as he stepped out towards the main foyer, and stifling a yawn he was just about to walk down the aisle when he was stopped by someone knocking on the double doors from outside. Frowning, he sighed again and approached them, his brows creased in slight annoyance.

_Who is it this time of evening?_ He thought to himself, reaching out a hand and pulling the door back. He blinked when he found himself face to face with one of the village youths he recognised from some of his Sunday sermons. There was a stunned silence for a few seconds.

"Asano?" Grimmjow's voice seemed to fall on deaf ears as Asano Keigo simply stared up at the priest, his brown eyes wide and his brunet hair splayed messily about his forehead, half-hiding his face in shadow. Grimmjow grew increasingly concerned, the man's blue eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of the trembling teen.

Asano had just turned 18 a few weeks ago, and his family had asked for a private Holy Communion at the chapel to celebrate the occasion. Grimmjow had conducted that very ceremony himself, and the boy had been all smiles the last time he had seen him that day. Now, whatever it was, something had happened. Something bad. The kid looked like he'd seen a ghost, and Grimmjow had no clue in the slightest what was going on.

"Asano?" He tried again, his tone urgent. The teen continued to gaze with wide horrified eyes up at the priest. The second call of his name seemed to rouse the youth out of his daydream and he stammered, wrapping his arms around himself and shivering.

"Asano – what's wrong? Where are your parents?" Grimmjow asked quickly, stepping aside to let the teen through as he stumbled forwards into the chapel. He stared, dumbfounded, as the teen gripped his head and wrung his hands nervously in front of him, soon spinning around to gaze, terrified, back up at the priest once more.

"F-Father I… I need to speak with you. P-privately." The teen whispered. Grimmjow closed the chapel doors, his eyes narrowing as he approached the boy.

"Asano… what happened?" He asked quietly. The youth shook his head.

"Please!" He repeated. Grimmjow was momentarily taken aback, and it was all he could do to just stand there in his shock and stare at the pleading teen. Eventually he snapped himself out of it, turning around and motioning for the boy to follow him to the confessional. All the while he was sick with worry.

_Just what the heck is going on here?_

He was quick in his strides as he walked over to the confessional, pushing open the door which he was at that moment thankful that he had forgotten to lock back up earlier on when he was in here with Szayel. He ushered the distressed teen in before him, closing the door behind him as he then made his way over to the confession box. It had been ages, months even, since Grimmjow had had to use this last – Nelliel being the very person whom he had tried to console, as a matter of fact. But now he paid no mind to that as he drew the curtains apart and slid into his seat, the blue haired pastor all the while wondering just what in God's good and holy name had made this kid before him so jittery.

He heard the shuffling of someone sitting down in the closed booth before him and Grimmjow sighed as he waited for Asano to settle, his rough voice breaking the heavy silence between them when he heard the rustling stop.

"Now then Asano… just what on earth is going on?" He tried again. He heard the boy give a shaky sigh, and when the brunet spoke up again his voice was trembling.

"M-my parents don't know I'm here…" He began, the kid sounding like his nerves had been shot. "I… I told them I was going to my friend's house… p-please… please don't tell them I came to see you!" He all but whimpered. Grimmjow's brows furrowed further and he leant forwards in his seat. When he spoke again his voice was low and quiet, the man trying to do his best to soothe the young boy.

"You have my word. Confessions are strictly confidential, Asano. Now please, tell me what's wrong. Why are you so upset?" He asked. He had to wait another moment until the youth decided to speak again.

"P-please forgive me Father… I… I feel like I'm about to be thrown out of my home. I… I have sinned… I…" The boy sounded like he was choking on his words, and Grimmjow heard the hitch of breath as the youth tried to keep pending tears at bay. "I… oh what am I even doing here? I can't say it… I've been t-trying to… to see you f-for weeks but… oh Lord I'm so sorry!"

Grimmjow sighed, running a hand over his face and taking a deep breath to calm himself.

"Asano… please listen to me. I can't help you if you won't tell me what's wrong. You said you feel like you're going to be thrown out of home. Why?" He asked gently. It was a very long time until the boy answered.

"I… I can't. It's… it's too horrible. I… I'm so sorry… I… every time I get close to telling someone I just can't and… and if my girlfriend ever heard about it or my parents then…"

Grimmjow's brows creased further.

"Are you saying you've done something to hurt them?" He pressed. The boy audibly gulped.

"… Yes." He whispered hoarsely at length. Grimmjow waited patiently. The boy could be heard swallowing thickly as he tried to continue. "Please Father… all I ask is that… is that you don't… judge me… for what I'm about to tell you."

If this was any other circumstance Grimmjow would have laughed. Though right now he only felt his worry increase tenfold. He nodded, though he knew the other wouldn't see it.

"I would never do that, Asano. I'm here to help you and that's exactly what I'll do." He answered softly. Asano exhaled sharply in relief, and as soon as he heard the sound Grimmjow wondered if the kid would actually start speaking what was on his mind now.

"It… it was a few weeks ago… after the communion." The boy began slowly, his voice so shaky Grimmjow was having a hard time trying to hear him clearly. "I… went to bed late because I was with my family at the pub most of the night. I was… was just about to fall asleep when…" He trailed off. Grimmjow frowned again.

"When what, Keigo?" He pressed softly. The boy squeaked.

"You're going to think I'm crazy… I can't do this Father. I'm sorry!" He cried out. By now the priest was feeling perplexed.

"Keigo, if you had the courage to finally come here and get this far in telling me about whatever happened to you, then you can finish telling me what happened. I don't think you're crazy, and I certainly never will. I highly doubt God does either."

There was silence for the longest time. Grimmjow wondered if the boy had just walked out and left the confessional and he was just about to stand up and take a look when he was stopped again by the teen's voice. He was still here.

"… Ok." Asano whispered. He could be heard clenching the bars of the confessional tightly with his hands. "Father Jaegerjaquez… I… think I was… visited. That night. By something."

Grimmjow froze.

"Visited?" He echoed quietly.

"… Yeah."

"… What do you mean?" The priest asked. Asano gulped audibly again.

"Like I said I was just about to fall asleep… I heard something. It… sounded like a voice. It was… whispering… to me. It wasn't a mean voice, it was kind of… low. And kind. I didn't feel scared… it… told me to relax. I found myself listening to it and then… then  _it_ appeared…" The boy took another shaky breath and then continued. "I don't know what it was Father. What  _he_ was. It was dark so I couldn't see his face. All I could see were a pair of bright yellow eyes. And something black trailing off it. It was kind of… wispy. Like smoke on candle flames."

Grimmjow's eyes were wide and he gripped the metal railing of the confessional tightly as he listened. It was obvious the kid wasn't making this up, and Grimmjow could see why Asano was scared he would think him crazy. But the boy was truthful and never lied, so to suddenly hear something like  _this_ falling from his lips… Grimmjow didn't know what to think. Did the kid have a very vivid nightmare which he believed was real? Somehow he doubted it.

"… What did this thing do, Asano?" Grimmjow asked lowly when the boy had stopped speaking. He knew that there was something the kid wasn't telling him. He heard a horrified gasp leave the youth and a faint whimper filled the confession box.

"It… it… Father, he… spoke to me. He said he knew of the darkness I had in my heart… he said he knew that I was seeing someone other than Tatsuki. He wasn't going to tell anyone… he just said that he could take that darkness away. Make me pure again. I… didn't know what he meant. But the way he said it I… felt like I could trust him. If I just let him…" Asano sounded like he was crying.

Grimmjow closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

"Let him do what?" He was almost afraid to ask. He heard shuffling on the other side of the confession box, and the next words to leave the boy's lips had Grimmjow reeling.

"… He said he normally preferred it when people were asleep. But he did it anyway. Father, he… he pushed me back against my bed and he… he  _took_ me."

Grimmjow was silent for the longest of moments. He felt like he couldn't think. Like he couldn't even move or breathe.

"… It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Actually it… felt… really good. I think that's what scared me the most about it. But… I feel weird, Father. My body feels numb… like I'm starting to slowly fade away. I can't explain it… but I'm frightened. If… if my parents were to find out, if  _Tatsuki_ were to find out… and then I heard that later that night Nelliel had said she'd heard a demon and… and I just couldn't take it. I knew I had to tell someone. Oh God…"

Grimmjow was startled by the sudden rustle of movement and the curtain to his side of the confessional flew open, revealing Asano's tear-streaked face. The kid all but bowled himself at the priest, the boy's slim frame trembling as he burst into tears onto the blue haired man's shoulder. Grimmjow quickly roused himself out of his stupor and he wrapped his arms gently around the youth, quietly whispering to him to calm down and form some grip on himself. As he gently pat the boy on the back, his gaze darkened.

Just what in God's name was going on here? Then the boy's last words reached him.

" _Later that night Nelliel had said she'd heard a demon…"_

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed further.

No. That was impossible.

"… Thank you for telling me this, Asano." The priest spoke up quietly after a moment, his voice sounding strained. He let the boy go when Keigo had moved back, the youth hastily wiping his eyes and taking deep breaths to try and calm himself. He was still trembling.

"I'm so sorry…" The boy was whispering, over and over again. Grimmjow shook his head, reaching out to rest his hand reassuringly on the teen's shoulder.

"Asano, listen to me… it's fine. You're going to be alright, ok?" He murmured. Asano shook his head.

"You think I'm crazy don't you? You think I need to be put on medication? Honestly I agree. I would be thinking the same thing if… if only I… wasn't awake… for all of that." He trembled. Grimmjow bit his lip and he carefully guided the distressed teen out of the confessional, gently walking him towards the chapel doors.

"I never said anything of the sort, Asano." He spoke up. "I don't know what to believe, that's true, but I do know there's no way you would be making this up."

Asano slowly lifted his head.

"Please… please don't tell my family." He choked on his words. Grimmjow gave a solemn smile.

"I promised you, didn't I?" He reminded the boy. Asano seemed to visibly relax somewhat and he nodded, wiping his hand over his eyes again.

"Please go get some rest. You're exhausted. I'll do what I can to look into this. I don't know what's going on but we  _will_ get to the bottom of this Keigo, you have my word." The priest announced. Asano sniffled, nodding slowly and flashing as grateful a smile as he possibly could up at the blue haired man.

"Thank you Father. I mean it… you have no idea how much that means to me." He whispered. Grimmjow gave another faint smile.

"Anytime, Keigo." He murmured faintly. The boy turned around, the teen racing out the chapel door and tearing down the street as fast as he could go. Grimmjow was meanwhile left watching, his mind all but blank as he saw the teen's figure disappear down the end of the street.

The echoing silence of the chapel seemed to drown out the sound of his thoughts and leave the priest feeling hollow inside. Gradually he turned, finding himself sliding down into the nearby aisle chair. He gazed unblinkingly up at the statue of Jesus Christ still standing above the altar at the far front of the chapel. He swallowed thickly, and after what seemed like a lifetime of just sitting there, gazing with eyes unmoving, he cursed loudly and leant his arms on the back of the pew in front, the priest gritting his teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands.

"Why?" He croaked out, voicing his anguish to no one in particular. " _Why?!_ "

He hated that confessions had to be confidential. He hated that the boy had just suffered something extremely traumatic – even now Grimmjow still couldn't fully wrap his head around what he had just been told. A demon had supposedly come to him in the middle of the night and seduced him? He scoffed a bitter laugh.

The kid was crazy. That's what everyone else would surely say if word like that spread around. He'd be seen as the new Nelliel around town. The kid needed to tell his family. He was raped. He needed to tell everyone. Everyone  _except_ Grimmjow because as a priest he could do nothing about it!

He froze.

That was probably exactly why Keigo had told him in the first place. He  _couldn't_ do anything about it. He couldn't and Keigo  _knew_ that. He groaned loudly and cursed again, lifting his angered gaze up at the effigy of Jesus.

He gripped the back of the aisle chair so tightly his knuckles turned white against his skin.

Sometimes he really hated being a priest.

* * *

Locks of his blond hair swept across his face as he lifted his head up, Szayel's expression surprised when he saw someone approach him out of the corner of his eye and he saw Grimmjow tiredly walking towards the table he was sitting at.

"Grimmjow? I was about to call you. I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it." The younger priest spoke up as the blue haired man seated himself down opposite him. One close look at the fatigue in cyan eyes and the distracted expression on the man's face had Szayel furrowing his brows in concern.

"Are you ok?"

Grimmjow gave a tired smile.

"Yeah… yeah I'm fine." He sighed, his voice sounding as weary as he looked. It was currently 8:30pm, and he hadn't been able to let Szayel know he would be late this evening. Truth be told, he debated going anywhere after the confession he had listened to back in the chapel, but he'd be damned if he let the younger priest down. Besides, he thought that a night out would hopefully take his mind off of everything. Though with how that was going it was more like the opposite.

Szayel remained silent as he watched the other closely, his brows furrowing further behind his glasses.

"Grimmjow…" He spoke up softly. "What happened?"

Grimmjow sighed again and ran a hand wearily through the locks of hair brushing over his eyes.

"Nothin', Szay." He replied, his voice slightly dry. "Just had a bit of an… incident in the chapel after you and Shawlong left."

"Did you hurt yourself?" Szayel asked, his eyes widening. Grimmjow gave a weak chuckle.

"Nah, I'm fine. Have you already ordered your food?" He asked, quickly changing the subject. Szayel looked like he was about to protest but changed his mind, sighing and offering a faint smile as he shook his head.

"No I was waiting for you. Thought I'd try and be civil at least." He replied, chuckling slightly. Grimmjow cracked another tired grin, thankful that his friend had respected his decision to remain silent about earlier on, and he stretched his arms above his head and stifled a yawn.

"Personally I'm not really that hungry, but go ahead and get something. I'll just have a coffee and then tick off." He spoke up. Szayel shrugged.

"If you insist. Though don't go expecting me to share my food. It's your fault for not ordering something if you end up getting hungry later on." He chuckled. Grimmjow grinned at him, waving the comment off and looking up when the waitress arrived – some black haired girl by the name of Rukia.

Even as they ordered their drinks, Szayel having decided in the end to just order a coffee as well, their conversation was limited. Grimmjow was nodding at various intervals as he listened to his blond friend speak, though through this all his thoughts were elsewhere.

He sipped his coffee, his gaze trailing out towards the window on the opposite wall. No matter how hard he tried… he just couldn't push Asano's confession out of his mind. It bothered him. Deeply. He bit back a lengthy sigh, his brows creasing ever so slightly as he tried to make sense of what it was he had heard.

It was the same night Nelliel had first started going on about demons being in the town… something with yellow eyes had appeared before Asano just as he was about to sleep, and lured him into bed with the promise of 'purifying the darkness in his heart'… He frowned again, his chin resting in the palm of his hand.

Demons…

He didn't believe in such things of course. After all, it was nonsense. He didn't believe in angels on top of that, and even though he was priest he often found himself questioning whether God truly existed either. But what he  _did_ believe in, was helping others.

_The kid probably needs medical help…_ he thought to himself, but even then he instantly regretted it.

_What the heck am I saying? Asano's a good kid. He's never done anything like this before. He looked genuinely afraid… how is this promising to help him if I'm starting to think like everyone else in this town?!_

He clenched his jaw tightly.

If only this was any other circumstance, Asano could have spoken to his parents about this and gotten the proper help that deserved. But this wasn't any other circumstance. Something weird was certainly going on. Grimmjow didn't know what angered him more. Something as serious as this happening to the boy, preventing him from getting any help he may need, or the fact that despite everything that happened to him Asano's exact words were "it felt really good".

The blue haired priest nearly kicked the wall beside him in frustration.

_Do I help or don't I?_

Yes, the boy had been lured to have some kind of intercourse with a supposed 'demon' (though Grimmjow was leaning towards believing it was one of the townspeople who had broken into his house), but at the same time he had enjoyed it. And this was where the real problem lay. The kid clearly wanted help… but he had told the one person in all of Karakura Town who would  _not_ be able to help in the slightest. It infuriated the pastor to no end.

If someone could tell him exactly what to do about this mysterious scenario, he would be more than willing to listen right about now.

"Grimmjow?"

He blinked, swivelling his gaze to see amber brown eyes locked intently on his face, Szayel now looking extremely concerned.

"What?" He asked, blinking. Szayel continued to stare at him.

"You've been spacing out for the past five minutes. Are you  _sure_ you're alright…?" The younger man asked, now looking quite desperate. Grimmjow groaned, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

"Honestly at this point Szay, I don't even know anymore." He whispered. He felt a hand reach out to wrap gently around his wrist, Grimmjow opening a blue eye to gaze at the blond again.

"I don't know what happened earlier on, but you look terrible, Grimmjow. Maybe you should just call it a night now and get some rest?" Szayel suggested, the man biting his lip. Grimmjow continued to gaze steadily at him for a moment until he sighed, closing his eyes and nodding.

"Yeah… I might actually do that. Sorry, Szay. I'll see you round the church, yeah?" He managed to speak up, his voice hoarse as he stood from his seat. The blond nodded, though no smile was on his lips as he watched his blue haired friend prepare to leave.

"Grimmjow…" He called out quietly just as Grimmjow made to turn around. The man in question paused and fixed his weary gaze back on the blond. When Szayel next spoke his voice was soft.

"I'm here, you know. If you ever need to talk about something… I want to help, if you'll let me."

Grimmjow's lips pulled into a slight grin despite himself and he nodded.

"Thanks." He lifted his hand in a wave and departed, his pace quick as he walked down the stairs towards the first floor. All the while his mind was clouded, and his brows were furrowed deep in thought even as he trekked the path through the park towards his house.

He was grateful that Szayel had offered to help him, but confessions were strictly confidential by nature and Grimmjow would be threatening his very name as a priest and a so-called doer of God's work if he would betray the trust placed in him by Asano to not breathe a word of what had happened to anyone else.

"This is gonna have to go the hard way." He grunted out loud to himself as he turned his key in the lock of his front door, pulling up outside his two storey townhouse after some fifteen minutes' stroll. He didn't relax until he found himself seated on the leather couch in his study, the walls littered with bookcases and photos and a roaring fire in the hearth.

Without thinking he had pulled down one of the first books to catch his eye from the top shelf of the case next to him, and as he settled back against the leather and pulled the volume's pages open to begin reading, hoping that this might somehow take his mind off of Asano's predicament, he didn't know whether to laugh or punch the wall when he looked at the title of the book he had unwittingly selected.

_Angels and Demons._

He scoffed a bitter laugh, sighing and continuing to read nevertheless. Granted, Dan Brown's  _Angels and Demons_ had nothing to do with anything remotely similar to what he had heard that night, but the sheer irony of the situation struck him as being irritatingly relevant all the same.

"At least this book's easier to understand than whatever the heck is going on in this town right now." He grumbled to himself. Grimmjow sighed heavily, glancing up at the clock over the mantelpiece and reading the time as 9:30pm.

_It's going to be a long night._


	2. Chapter 2

The talk around the town was that Nelliel had finally cracked.

They had overheard a few of the villagers mumbling about it when they were gathering for sermon one Sunday morning, a month after the woman had first ran to town exclaiming there was something out there preying on the townspeople. She had refused all medication the doctor had given her, and as they worked to finish up laying the cloths over the altar, the three priests inside the chapel sighed when they heard the noisy villagers standing outside the doors say something about the mayor arranging that morning for the girl to be transported to an institution in the city.

"What is this? It's like she's nothing but an animal!" Shawlong muttered disapprovingly under his breath as he took out the Bible and placed it on the lectern. Grimmjow and Szayel nodded their agreement.

"It's tragic. We need to be  _helping_ her, not sending her away! She needs someone to listen to her." Szayel agreed, the man lighting some of the candles by the organ. Grimmjow smiled bitterly.

"Have you actually tried speaking to her, Szay?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. The blond sighed.

"I have. A few weeks ago. She walked past me in town but before I could say anything she took one look at me and tried to tell me to run away before this so-called demon got me too." The man answered wistfully.

Grimmjow and Shawlong exchanged a look and shook their heads.

"She's gone off the rails, there's no doubt about it. I guess it was only a matter of time." Grimmjow spoke up sombrely.

"Poor child. My heart aches for her." Shawlong swept over towards the curtains, pulling them apart to allow the sun to stream through the stained glass windows behind the altar, the multi-coloured rays of light illuminating the statue raised against the ceiling.

The noise from outside grew louder and Grimmjow shot an annoyed glare towards the closed double doors. All this racket so early in the morning wasn't doing his headache any good, and he needed his concentration now more than ever after hearing that heartbreaking news.

The past month had thankfully been less eventful than the previous one, with the exception of Nelliel's antics, and the blue haired priest had slowly managed to get a grip on himself when it came to Asano's confession that one time. He'd seen the boy since then, and even though the young brunet continued to act jittery and embarrassed around him, he didn't seem any more worse for wear and he'd been seen smiling more frequently in public. The kid was seemingly good at hiding his insecurities, as his parents apparently hadn't noticed anything at all, and his girlfriend, Arisawa Tatsuki, was left equally none the wiser. Grimmjow had to hand it to him. He certainly wouldn't have been able to pull it off without a hitch like this young boy had done, if he was in his position.

The teen had strength, and that was most important in a time like this. It still didn't mean that Grimmjow could easily forget about those words which had haunted him day and night since that fateful evening, but he was slowly coming to terms with the fact that it probably  _was_ a medical related issue. Or he'd gone and "pulled a Nelliel" and stayed up all night from lack of sleep, which in turn made his brain delirious and had convinced the kid he'd been seeing and feeling things.

Grimmjow knew how hypocritical that made him sound, and he knew he didn't believe what his mind was so desperately trying to tell him in the slightest, but it was the only explanation he had – and not being the kid's parent, the only thing he could legally do was just sit back and hope for the best.

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder and startled him out of his thoughts. He span around only to find himself face to face with Shawlong.

"Geez, don't scare me like that!" He grumbled, shooting the black haired man an annoyed glare. Shawlong merely rose an eyebrow and chuckled, removing his hand and sweeping down the aisle, the folds of his cassock rustling as he went.

"It's time to open the doors, Father Jaegerjaquez." He announced, his voice echoing around the walls of the chapel. Grimmjow sighed, still shooting a dark glare at his elder as he ran a hand through his hair. He blinked when he saw strands of blond move in the corner of his vision and he turned his head to see Szayel already making to follow Shawlong.

"Wait, were you giving sermon this morning too, Szayel?" He asked. The blond paused, turning to look back at the blue haired priest with a rather incredulous look on his young features.

"Well, yes. You asked me to, remember?" He replied, sounding quite surprised. Grimmjow furrowed his brows.

"Really?"

Szayel rolled his eyes.

"Last night. You rang me up and said we were one priest short as Father Lindocruz couldn't make it in this morning. Honestly Grimmjow, you have the worst memory sometimes." He replied, a blond eyebrow arching behind his glasses. It took Grimmjow a moment to realise what his friend had said. Then he remembered.

He blinked, eliciting a groan and chuckling faintly as he rubbed his eyes.

"Ah yeah, that's right. Sorry. I've been out of it all morning." He laughed bitterly. Szayel's expression was now concerned.

"I'll say. Though you did sound quite preoccupied when you called me. What were you doing if you don't mind me asking?" The blond spoke up. Grimmjow stepped down from the dais, walking alongside his friend towards Shawlong who even now was waiting to open the doors with a rather impatient look on his face.

"I was at the library. I needed to grab a book and I got caught up with Tesla calling and saying he was ill. Also," Grimmjow lowered his voice and jerked his head slightly in Shawlong's direction when he was sure the older man wasn't looking, "Shawlong made me do this weeks' registry. Again." He grimaced. Szayel's expression was rather amused and he pat Grimmjow on the shoulder.

"You'll just have to organise yourself better, Father." He answered cheerily. Grimmjow rolled his eyes and grumbled something in insult, to which Szayel smirked as he took his place next to his blue haired friend. Shawlong elicited a sigh as he opened the doors, the three priests plastering welcoming smiles on their lips as the townspeople filed through.

"Morning, Fathers!" A few of the older villagers announced as they entered, the three pastors receiving similar greetings by the rest of the churchgoers straight afterwards. Shawlong, Grimmjow and Szayel smiled and returned the greetings, nodding and waving to everyone as they continued to walk through, finding their seats in the aisles. Grimmjow caught various bits and pieces of the snippets of conversation echoing around the chapel walls when the crowd had eventually settled down, the blue haired man and his fellow clergymen now walking towards the front of the chapel and back to the dais upon which the altar was placed.

It was the standard town news – people greeting friends and family and asking what they had been up to for the past week. Occasionally there were talks about the weather and the news on television about things in the city, but as he took his place by the lectern and heard the two elderly men sitting in the very front row raise their voices to just above a whisper, Grimmjow found himself pausing and unable to move.

"Did you hear that Nelliel had a go at the mayor? She reckons she was visited last night in her sleep by that 'demon' she's been going on about for the past month."

"Aye, terrible bit of business that. Barking mad, she is."

Grimmjow dropped the microphone which was nestled on the edge of the lectern. Szayel and Shawlong exchanged brief glances and looked at the blue haired man, the priest's cyan eyes wide.

"Grimmjow?" Szayel whispered quietly to him from nearby. Grimmjow blinked himself out of his stupor, quickly shaking his head and offering a faint smile as he cleared his throat, chuckling and lifting his head back up to face the people in the front row who had seen him clumsily fumble around.

"Sorry about that. Butter fingers." He chuckled to those who were staring at him, the priest covering up his actions as best he could by picking up the microphone again and placing it back down next to the Bible. The villagers laughed and resumed their conversations, Grimmjow outwardly grinning from ear to ear yet on the inside…

His heart was beating so fast he couldn't hear anything over the pounding in his ears.

The villager's words echoed in his head.

" _She reckons she was visited last night in her sleep by that demon she's been going on about for the past month."_

He clenched his fingers to somehow make them stop trembling.

_No..._

This couldn't be happening.

First Asano… now Nelliel?

He mentally shook his head, desperately trying to rid his mind of these thoughts. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down.

Nelliel was a nutcase – that was already established. By the entire town no less. Give it any other circumstance and Grimmjow would have completely ignored those words from the two men in the front.

But it wasn't any other circumstance.

" _Visited last night in her sleep…"_

Keigo's confession drifted to the front of his mind from the very deepest, darkest depths of his memory.

" _He said he normally preferred it when people were asleep…"_

He clenched his jaw tightly and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Say, uh… were you two just talking about Nelliel then?" He asked casually, inwardly thankful his voice wasn't trembling as obviously as he thought it would be when he raised his gaze and locked it on those two men in the front. The pair in question blinked and turned their heads to look at the priest.

"Aye, that's right." The first one answered, looking confused. "Why, what's wrong Father?"

Grimmjow was aware of Shawlong's and Szayel's gazes fixed on him from behind.

"Oh nothing really. I was just supposed to give her our town's final blessing tonight before she leaves. Do you know where she is right now? I don't see her here." Grimmjow continued, ignoring his fellow priests for the moment in favour of getting the information he wanted from the villagers.

"She'd be in her house, I'd wager. Though she said she was going to come here later on anyway." The other of the two shrugged, grunting as he leant back against the aisle chair. Grimmjow exhaled slowly.

_At least that's one good piece of news._

"Thank you, gentlemen." He tried to smile as best he could, taking another deep breath and holding it for a moment before turning on the microphone and raising it to his lips. He spoke up and greeted the audience before the other two clergymen could have a chance to step in and ask him what was going on.

The morning liturgy began.

* * *

"Grimmjow what was the meaning of that?"

Grimmjow sighed as he rested his chin on his hand, his expression weary as he watched Shawlong pace up to him in his office some time after the sermon concluded. Szayel followed him, the blond looking equally unamused.

"What was the meaning of what, Shawlong?" The blue haired priest grunted out, though he had a pretty good idea about what the other was referring to. He busied himself with the letters on his desk, his eyes scanning over the notes to the church and the various other tax invoices collected from the post office this morning.

"You know what." Shawlong's tone was stern. "Asking about Nelliel like that. She's a lost cause, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow sighed.

"It's not about that." He muttered. Shawlong rose an eyebrow.

"Really?" He asked, his tone stating that he clearly knew Grimmjow was lying. Grimmjow rolled his eyes and leant back in his chair, his gaze focused on the black haired priest.

"Coming from someone who said not that long ago your heart aches for her." He countered, his own brow raising. Shawlong sighed.

"Yes, but I know when to let something go, Grimmjow. You've been too distracted about her ramblings this past month. What are you trying to pull? She's going to a better place after tonight. She'll be able to get the proper medical attention she needs."

Grimmjow looked doubtful.

"With all due respect, Father Koufang…" Szayel spoke up, his soft voice timid as he stepped forwards and drew the two other priest's attentions towards him. "I think Grimmjow's concern is well placed. She did say she was going to visit us later on anyway… it's the least we can do to help ease her mind up as much as she'll allow before she gets sent off to the city."

Grimmjow flashed a grateful smile to the blond, the younger man returning it with a smile of his own. Shawlong on the other hand grunted in exasperation.

"Young 'uns. Honestly." He muttered, turning around and continuing to shake his head morosely as he left the office and strode down the corridor to his own. Szayel and Grimmjow were left watching him leave, the tension slowly dissipating in the air as they glanced back to one another.

"Thanks, Szay. I owe you." Grimmjow murmured. Szayel offered a faint smile.

"Not at all. I'm with you on this one. What she's saying is nonsense of course, but… I can't shake this feeling that there's something more behind it…" The blond whispered. Grimmjow's expression darkened.

"No kidding."

Szayel sighed and sat himself down in the chair opposite the desk, his amber brown eyes steadily holding Grimmjow's gaze.

"Is there something going on with that Asano child as well?" He asked. Grimmjow's eyes widened and he froze.

"What?!" He asked incredulously. Szayel smiled grimly.

"I thought so. I saw him and Nelliel talking together by the town square yesterday… I walked past them and overheard them saying something about this so-called demon of theirs." He spoke up softly. Grimmjow closed his eyes and bit back the low groan which was threatening to spill from his lips.

So much for the kid not wanting anyone else to know.

"So that's why you were so out of it this month…" Szayel spoke up again, the man looking sadly at his blue haired friend. Grimmjow lifted his head and quickly averted his gaze to the computer monitor.

"Who wouldn't be? Someone says something about a demon and the whole town goes crazy." He muttered under his breath. Szayel noticed the change in the conversation and the man's tone and he sat himself up from the chair, turning around and making to leave.

"I hope you find out what's going on here. One person known to be a bit unstable on occasion is fine, but if two people go on about the same thing and are convinced it's real… I'm not so sure it's a joke anymore. These people are superstitious, Grimmjow. This won't end well for anyone." The blond's parting words rang out in the silence that followed as he departed, the rustling of his cassock the only sound in that small office.

Grimmjow's mouth was pursed in a thin line and his eyes narrowed as he pulled the book he had in his top drawer out.

Szayel was right. He sighed and ran a hand through his tousled blue locks and began reading.

* * *

It was nearing 8 in the evening when he heard it. The rapid, frantic knocking on the chapel doors. Already knowing who it was Grimmjow steeled himself as he rose from his office chair, quickly walking down through the corridor to stride into the altar room of the chapel. The lights were lit and flickering against the granite walls, the sky outside pitch black for this time of night thanks to the cloud cover Karakura Town had suffered earlier on.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." He sighed as he approached, the knocking now growing so frantic and so loud it was like she was trying to bang the door down. He reached out a hand and pulled on the handle, the wooden doorway groaning faintly in slight resistance as he swung it open.

"Nelliel." He greeted, forcing a smile on his lips when he beheld the sight of the frightened looking woman.

Her wavy strands of teal coloured hair were windswept and unkempt as they whipped about her face, the woman's wide caramel eyes bloodshot as if she hadn't slept in weeks. Her complexion was pale, and her chest was heaving as she gripped her arms tightly. She looked incredibly weak and frail, like she had forgone eating, and Grimmjow inwardly sighed, his heart breaking as he saw how panicked and afraid the woman looked. She was a shell of the girl she used to be, looking more like a broken husk now than a human being.

He could remember a time when he had first come to the town five years ago where she had been by all accounts a very attractive young woman, who had a husband, a family, and a job. Then her illness kicked in and all that slowly started to fade away and crumble around her. Her husband left her, her children didn't want to see her, and she was fired from her job at the library. She seeped and wallowed in her pit of despair and sickness, and she rarely left her house unless it was to warn others of the night terrors that tormented her vivid imagination.

Grimmjow secretly hated dealing with her, only because he knew that any kind words he offered her in confession were words which he, as a priest, were forced to say to her to keep her deluded that she was fine. In fact he felt it was partly his fault that she was where she was right now in life, and for someone who had suffered a less-than-savoury childhood himself where he was surrounded by nothing but hardship, he couldn't help but take that a little too personally.

"F-Father. I need to speak with you." She stammered, her voice so light, so quiet and hoarse that it sounded haunted and ghostly. Grimmjow nodded, stepping back to let her through and he watched as she hurried inside and ran towards the confessional, the sound of her heels clacking in the granite halls.

He took his time, his cassock sweeping around his feet as he walked, his steps silent in comparison with the noise of the woman's shoes. He could hear the slam of the confession box walls as the woman seated herself inside, the curtain flying closed around her, and his eyes narrowed when he heard what sounded like scattered fragments of the Lord's prayer passing her lips.

He took his place, sliding into his side of the booth yet leaving his side of the curtain open. He didn't see the need to close it as this meeting probably wouldn't take more than five minutes at the least, so he closed his eyes and leant his head back, taking a breath and holding it.

"I'm glad you could make it this evening, Nelliel." He began. The woman elicited a choked whimper of a noise and she gripped the iron bars of the petition screen in front of her.

"Father, I need to speak with you urgently!" She hissed out, gulping audibly as she all but ignored his greeting.

"I'm listening." Grimmjow murmured softly. He prayed this would be over with soon.

"People think I'm crazy. I know I am. I know what they say about me… I know they're going to get rid of me tomorrow. Ship me off to the city. But they'll see! They'll see I'm right!" The woman's voice was now hysterical as she all but yelled out, Grimmjow wincing at the sharp increase in volume.

"Nelliel, please calm down. What did you want to talk to me about?" He pleaded, still trying to keep his voice level. The woman sucked in a deep breath.

"It's…  _him_ , father. The demon!" She whispered. "… I've seen him."

Grimmjow swallowed back the lump forming in his throat and he tried to make himself sound as indifferent as possible when he next spoke.

"The one you heard last month?" He queried.

"Yes. And it's not just me! The child… Asano… he saw him too! I'm  _not_ crazy, Father! I'm not!" The woman started laughing then, the sound unsettling to Grimmjow's ears and making his blood turn to ice in his veins. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, willing himself to calm down and make the woman see sense for long enough so he could draw the story out of her.

"—I know the boy came to see you in confession, Father. He told me! He spoke to me yesterday! You were right to not help him this past month. No… such a thing… such a  _monster_ can never be stopped!" She was hysterical again, her voice now a loud, wild shriek. "He takes all and drags us down to the pits of Hell from where he came! This town is doomed!  _Doomed!_ No one is safe…" Her breath hitched and it sounded like she had begun crying.

Grimmjow ran a hand through his hair, his teeth gritting. He wished he wasn't the only one to listen to this right now, that he wasn't the only one in this confessional – he couldn't bear the weight of this on his shoulders alone. Nelliel had continued, seemingly oblivious to Grimmjow's lack of input.

"… I saw him, Father. That creature. Eyes as gold as fire embers… I couldn't see his face in the dark, but I saw the trailing wisps of smoke, of black evil pulsing from his body… he has a powerful aura. And his voice…" Her breath hitched and she audibly shuddered. "His voice is of sin itself… he lures you, Father. He lulls you into false comfort… whispering sweet words to take you in and pull you under. It's… so hard… to resist. I tried… I tried with all my heart… but he's too strong." She burst out into tears again.

Grimmjow had sat bolt upright in his chair, his cyan eyes now so wide he felt his facial muscles strain.

_What?!_

He was frozen still, unable to think over the pounding of his heart.

This creature's description, his actions… it was exactly the same as what Asano had described to him that night.  _Exactly_  the same.

"Nelliel…" He croaked out, unable to finish his sentence. The woman ignored him.

"He told me to relax… he said to me that he had no desire to harm me… he promised he would ease my suffering… make me pure... all I had to do was sleep. Oh Lord…"

"Nelliel…" Grimmjow tried again, louder this time. His rough voice trembled.

This couldn't be… it just  _couldn't_.

"—and then he… he did the unspeakable act! I… I can't continue. I have fallen, Father. Fallen deeply into the pit of Hell he carved out for me the moment his skin touched mine."

Grimmjow's words died off his tongue when Nelliel had uttered the last of her sentence. There was a long silence.

"But…" She continued at length, the woman's voice now stronger than it had been before. Her voice was level and clear, and Grimmjow couldn't help but think that something was very,  _very_ wrong…

A noise escaped her lips, low and long, almost like a moan. It ended with a sigh, breathless and sharp.

"Oh  _God_ it was  _good_ …"

Grimmjow felt sick. He stumbled out of the confession box before he could even stop himself, the man's eyes wide and his chiselled features contorted into an expression of horror. He couldn't believe what he had just heard.

A lilting giggle emanated from Nelliel's side of the confessional, and the woman slowly exited a moment later, her features now relaxed and calm, an eerily content smile on her lips as she fixed her bloodshot caramel eyes upon the blue haired pastor. Grimmjow felt his skin crawl.

Something definitely wasn't right here.

Nelliel curled a lock of her hair absentmindedly, playfully, around her finger, and she continued to hold the priest at bay with the ecstatic expression in her eyes.

"I don't care that they're sending me away." She whispered softly, giggling again. "I spent my life living in fear of sin. Now I've had a taste of it… and I want more." She crooned, her tongue flicking slowly out to lick at the corners of her plump lips. Grimmjow's eyes narrowed, the man somehow maintaining his composure despite how repulsed he was feeling within.

Nelliel winked at him, the woman turning on her heel and humming a tuneless song, its haunting melody echoing around the granite walls of the chapel.

"Oh, by the way Father…" She paused, turning her head slowly to lock caramel eyes sharply on cyan blue once again. Her smile faded from her lips and she grew serious.

"He told me something." She murmured. "Before I fell to him."

She waited to see if the priest would respond. Seeing that he wouldn't, her gaze became solemn.

"Watch out for yourself." She whispered. "The demon is drawn to people with dark hearts. If he should find you… and he will… there will be no escape."

A heavy silence fell over the confessional, Grimmjow's eyes wavering as he stared, unblinking, as the woman departed, her heels clacking slowly against the ground in time with her steps as she left him alone.

He didn't move a muscle until he heard the muffled groan of the chapel doors opening then closing shut.

He ran. The folds of his cassock swept wildly about him as he raced out those double doors, his pace becoming faster and faster as he tore through to the park. His face was haunted, his skin paling in its normally tanned complexion, and his forehead felt clammy with sweat. As soon as he was sure he was alone and not visible in the darkness of the dense lining of trees, he doubled over and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the earthy ground.

He continued to retch until he felt weak, his stomach and chest aching with the exertion of his violent hacking and wheezing. He fell back, wiping his mouth and groaning lowly, running his free hand over his brow, feeling the sweat trickle down his cheeks and forehead.

He gasped, his chest rising and falling quickly in time with the fevered pants for breath escaping his lips. He couldn't even form any words to speak.

He gazed fearfully up at the sky, his cyan eyes wide and his expression nothing short of terrified.

"What…" He croaked, his throat raw and tasting of vomit. "What the hell is going on?!"

He knew he wasn't likely to get an answer.

* * *

He'd locked himself in his home for the next five days.

He'd ignored all the calls left to him by his friends, and he didn't even bother to answer the door when Shawlong and Szayel had paid him a visit demanding to know what was wrong with him. He'd only grunted something barely audible in reply when he  _did_ decide to answer Szayel's call later that evening stating the blond would come over the next night if he didn't bother to show himself in town any time soon.

Right now he wanted peace and quiet so he could be left alone with his own thoughts.

Thoughts which the blue haired pastor had quickly found had led to an obsession.

He pored over the books on demonology he had borrowed from the library, all the while his blue eyes frantically searching each and every page for some kind of sign as to what the mysterious creature was that had visited Asano and Nelliel.

If he took a proper look at himself he would know that he was turning crazy. It was the only explanation. He knew this was ridiculous – it was some kind of hoax. It had to be. Yet he found himself believing it all the same. There was just too much evidence… two people having claimed they were visited and seduced by the same creature, the same descriptions and explanations given by them both… there were too many strange things happening. Even after Nelliel had left for the city there were faint whisperings in the town that someone else had heard strange noises in the night.

And so between dawn and dusk Grimmjow was poring over those tomes, continuing his frantic search to try and find  _some_ grip on his quickly dwindling sanity. The warning Nelliel had given him had scared him witless, and it was the same type of fear – the same overwhelming helplessness – that he hadn't experienced since he was a child living on the streets. That was probably why this was one battle he couldn't fight. Because it was a fight with his own mind to try and seek reason.

And he didn't know what was worse. This losing battle to try and discover something which didn't even exist, or the fact that no matter how much they told him they could help him with whatever it was that had him acting so reclusively, neither Szayel nor Shawlong  _could_ give him the aid he so desperately needed.

No. He would have to do this alone.

And that was where the problem lay.

He couldn't.

" _Grimmjow…"_

His head shot up, Grimmjow blinking as he glanced quickly around the study. He froze. There was silence for a few seconds, and the blue haired pastor let loose the breath he didn't realise he had been holding. He frowned.

_What was that?_

He could have sworn he heard someone say his name. He dismissed it as nothing, shrugging and returning his gaze back to the book in his hands. He turned the page, raking his eyes over the article on the Crossroad Demon, and he sighed as he quickly flicked over to the page after that.

_Nope. Not this one._

" _Grimmjow."_

There it was again. Louder now. He narrowed his eyes, slowly raising his head once more. There was nothing in the room except for him. He was wondering if he was hearing things when a loud knocking sounded from the bottom floor, startling him out of his reverie and making him cuss loudly as he jumped up from his chair.

" _Grimmjow would you answer the door? I've been here for five minutes!"_

Racing down the stairs Grimmjow let loose a sharp exhale of relief when he saw the dark figure visible standing on the porch through the frosted glass. He jostled over, reaching out a hand and swinging the door open only to reveal an irritated looking Szayel standing there, his arms crossed over his slim chest.

"Szay." Grimmjow blinked, unaware of the slight breathlessness of his tone. His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest and he willed himself to calm down. He didn't think he'd ever been so glad to see the blond before, the blue haired man scared that for a minute… just maybe… he had been losing it.

"Took you long enough. I told you I was coming over." Szayel grumbled, an eyebrow raised as he stepped inside when Grimmjow had moved away to allow him to do so. Grimmjow clapped a hand to his forehead and gave a weak chuckle, closing the door behind his friend and guiding him upstairs.

"Yeah you did, didn't you? Sorry 'bout that." He groaned, his steps heavy against the staircase. Szayel's eyes narrowed in concern as he followed the blue haired priest, and he let out a lengthy sigh when he arrived in the study after his friend, Grimmjow telling him to take a seat anywhere he wanted. He'd already gotten some tea ready moments previously, and Szayel thanked the older man as he went to pick up his cup and take a sip of the hot beverage.

He didn't say anything for a while, instead watching suspiciously as the priest sat back down at his desk and all but ignored him, his head bent back over a large leather-bound book upon the table. The man was looking terrible by all accounts, his hair tousled even more than usual like he had been pulling at it in irritation, and the faintest hint of dark circles could be seen under those cyan eyes. It looked like he hadn't been sleeping for days.

"Well?" Szayel spoke up, arching a brow and sitting himself down opposite the man on the leather couch nearby. Grimmjow blinked, lifting his head back up and focusing his bleary gaze on the blond.

"Well what?" He croaked out. Szayel sighed.

"What in God's name is up with you all of a sudden, Grimmjow?" He pressed, his normally soft-spoken tone now stern and exasperated. "You've been acting weirdly all week since Nelliel was supposed to see you. Is this because she's been moved to the city now? If you're that concerned about her wellbeing you can ask to go visit her if you wa—"

"It's not about that, Szay." Grimmjow cut across his friend, lowering his gaze back to the book. He sounded distracted. "I'm trying to sort something out."

Szayel gazed incredulously at him.

"About what? This so-called demon issue? Grimmjow, there's no such thing."

Grimmjow glared up at the blond, his eyes hard.

"I know that." He all but hissed. Szayel stared at him for a while. His eyes narrowed and he placed his tea down on the nearby coffee table.

"Alright. I promised myself I wasn't going to interfere but you leave me no choice." He murmured lowly. Grimmjow's gaze was wary as he watched the blond stand up and approach him, the man's gaze annoyed behind his black glasses.

"What are you d—oi!" Grimmjow's exclamation was cut off when the blond reached down and swiped the book from his grasp, Grimmjow's attempts at grabbing it back failing when Szayel all but wrenched it from his grip yet again. He turned away from the blue haired man, sitting himself back down on the couch and locking his hard gaze on his older friend. Grimmjow froze, wondering what his friend was planning to do when he saw the younger priest glance down at the cover of the book.

Brown eyes narrowed behind black glasses and a heavy sigh passed pale lips.

"Care to explain, Grimmjow?" He asked wearily, lifting his head and holding up the tome to the other man, the cover facing him. "Demonology?  _Really_?"

Grimmjow shifted uncomfortably at the desk and he avoided the younger's gaze.

"It was just a bit of light reading." He grunted out. He knew it was a stupid excuse but it was the best he could come up with on the spot. Szayel looked unimpressed.

"Uh-huh, sure."

Grimmjow sighed.

"Szay, give the book back." He spoke up quietly, his rough voice weary. Szayel waved it in his hands.

"No, I don't think so." He announced, opening it and flipping casually through the pages. He glanced slowly up at the older man from under his glasses. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to yourself?"

Grimmjow was taken aback by this question.

"What?" He blinked. Szayel sighed again.

"Having two people rant about demons is one thing, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, but having a priest forgo chapel duties and spend days on end poring over tomes on Hell spawn is another. It's become an obsession for you, don't think either of us haven't noticed! What do you feel you need to prove? That there  _are_ demons in this town? Grimmjow there is  _no such thing_."

"I know that!" Grimmjow snapped, his tone harsher than expected. Szayel's eyes seemed to flash.

"Do you?  _Do you?!_ " The younger man yelled, Grimmjow caught so unawares by the sudden raise in volume that he took a step back further behind the desk.

Szayel was practically seething, the man holding up the book again and throwing it on the ground with a loud dull  _thud_.

"Take a look at yourself, Grimmjow!" He cried out. "This has gotten a hold on you! I can't even begin to imagine what on God's earth caused you to go chasing after a myth, but you'd better snap yourself out of it right now! We need you at the chapel. The townspeople need you. Asano and Nelliel need you! It's because they trusted you enough with whatever confession it was they sought with you that you're even in this to begin with! How are you helping  _anyone_ in this town if you allow yourself to be consumed day in and day out by your own selfish needs? You're a _PRIEST_ , Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez!  _START ACTING LIKE ONE!_ "

Szayel was panting, the man nearly having yelled himself hoarse. His words echoed in Grimmjow's head, the man's earlobes still ringing.

He was, for lack of a better word, stunned.

"Szay…" He croaked out. Szayel gazed angrily at him, his eyes flaring again as he strode directly up to the older man. All Grimmjow could see was the rage practically seeping from the man in waves, and he felt his mouth go dry. The air was filled with tension, Grimmjow could almost practically taste it, and when Szayel raised his hand he thought grimly that he fully deserved the punch to the face he was surely about to receive.

He didn't even flinch.

So he was rather surprised when instead a weary sigh escaped the blond and Szayel's hand came down to clasp reassuringly at his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Grimmjow blinked, gazing uncertainly at the younger man as he searched amber brown eyes for some sort of explanation.

Szayel smiled bitterly, his hard gaze softening into a look of fatigue.

"I'm tired of all this, Grimmjow." He whispered. "We haven't known each other that long but I've begun to see you as a real friend to me. That's not something I can say very often – to anyone. So please… snap out it. We need our priest back. We need  _you_ back. And from one friend to another… I just want to see you happy again." He gave the older man's shoulder another gentle squeeze and then stepped back, the blond stuffing his hands into his coat pockets as he turned around and made to leave.

"I'll see you around the church sometime. I'll make my own way out." He announced, his steps already thudding on the carpeted hallway outside.

Grimmjow couldn't answer. Instead he found his feet moving of his own accord, and he raced to the front of the landing just as Szayel was halfway down the stairs.

"Szay!" He called out, finally finding the voice to speak. Szayel paused, turning his head to fix his weary gaze back on Grimmjow. He patiently waited for him to continue.

Grimmjow sighed, shaking his head and running a clammy palm over his brow. He chuckled drily as he opened his eyes again, gazing back down at the younger man.

"Thanks." He murmured.

The smile on Szayel's lips widened and the blond chuckled, lifting a hand in a wave as he nodded and continued back down the staircase.

"Anytime, Jaegerjaquez." He called back as he opened the door and closed it behind him.

Grimmjow gazed at the door, the hardened gaze in his eyes softening.

"What have I done…?" He mumbled to himself, running a hand back over his face again and sighing heavily.

He owed his friend a lot more than perhaps even he himself knew.

* * *

"Father, are you feeling better now?"

Grimmjow paused when he walked up to the lectern that Sunday morning, his gaze sweeping over to the woman in the front row who had just called out to him. He fixed a kind smile on his lips and he grinned, nodding as he opened the Bible to the desired page and waited for the rest of the crowd to settle in.

"Much better, Inoue. Thank you for asking." He answered, the orange haired woman in the front row flashing a relieved smile back at him and falling into conversation with her friends. Grimmjow glanced back at the rows of people, his brows furrowing slightly.

Apparently the last week hadn't seemed so quiet as he'd thought, the villagers noting his brief disappearance and coming to the other priests to ask his whereabouts. Shawlong and Szayel had told them that he had been at home for the past week fighting off the flu, and that had worked to put the townspeople at ease. Grimmjow had to hand it to the two other clergymen – he still needed to find the proper time to apologise to them both for his behaviour, but that would have to wait until after this sermon.

Szayel wasn't present this morning, the man normally having Sundays off with the exception of last week, so that left Grimmjow and Shawlong conducting the liturgy as per normal. He cast a glance over to his fellow priest, Shawlong nodding and then turning his gaze to the chapel organist.

The young lad glanced up and then splayed his fingers over the keyboard, the walls soon thrumming with the sound of the organ pulsing through the granite around them. The townspeople rose from their seats, their voices raising in unison as they began their opening hymn, and Grimmjow waited patiently for the opening procession to conclude before he continued the morning ceremony.

He was feeling tired but he tried not to let it show, the last week of stress and constant reading to search for information which had quickly proven fruitless having taken more out of him than he had originally thought. Even now he fought the urge to rub his eyes, and he found himself wistfully wishing that there weren't any people around so he could do just that.

But on the whole he  _had_ managed to snap out of that almost obsessive need to read that book, and since there had been no talk about anymore 'demons' in town for that past week, the priest thought that finally, maybe  _finally_ , he could get some rest around here. It was probably a hoax on Asano's and Nelliel's part. Despite how unlikely that still seemed… he couldn't think of any other explanation.

As he opened his mouth to cite the morning prayer, he felt himself calm down as he reached that conclusion.

Yes, it was all just a hoax.

_People get bored around here. It's a small town. They need to do something with their time._

Considering Asano had always tried his best to help Nelliel whenever he saw her on the street, the boy being well-known for pitying the woman, it was reasonable to assume that he thought he was doing her a favour by playing her little 'demon' game. He bit back a snort.

" _Keep telling yourself that."_

Grimmjow's voice faltered in the middle of the stanza he was reading and he glanced around the hall. His brows furrowed.

_What the…_

He ignored the faintly confused glances of the villagers as they watched the priest pause in his reading. Grimmjow quickly cleared his throat, offering a smile and resuming his recital when he was certain he'd heard nothing.

For a moment he could have sworn he had heard a voice whisper close by. Low sounding. Smooth. Certainly not his own. He brushed it off. There were people talking all around him after all.

"… Amen." He concluded, his smile wide as he placed the Bible back down and drew his hands out, the folds of his robes sweeping as he rested his hands atop the lectern. "Morning everyone, I'd like to begin by giving my gratitude to those who sent all those well-wishes and get well soon cards to the chapel post office concerning my case of flu last week. I'm all better now as you can see. Though if you wanted me to take another week off I wouldn't complain in the slightest." He chuckled, the audience laughing along with him.

" _Oh I'm sure they wouldn't either."_

Grimmjow's smile faltered and he blinked again. He looked around, his cyan eyes sweeping over the rows of villagers.

"Uh…"

No one had been talking that time. His hands gripped the wood of the lectern tighter.

_Jaegerjaquez… think clearly._ He heard a semi-impatient cough from his right and he caught Shawlong narrowing his eyes at him. He cleared his throat, taking the hint and straightening himself up as he smiled back at the churchgoers again.

"Let's continue." His smile was less wide than it had been moments previously, but Grimmjow ignored this in favour of proceeding to the next item of the morning, with hopefully no further interruptions from the audience.

The hour thankfully passed by without any hassle, and even as the audience finished off their last hymn Grimmjow walked up once more to the lectern, his hand sweeping out into the figure of the cross as he spoke the Lord's Prayer.

As he bid them goodbye for the week and wished them an enjoyable rest of their day, he exhaled sharply and bit back a groan. He was starting to feel the fatigue really set in now and all he wanted in that moment was a good strong cup of coffee. He smoothed his features back over into a pleasant smile when a few of the villagers stepped up to give him their thanks for another liturgy well conducted as well as offer their gratefulness that he had recovered from last week, and he allowed Shawlong to continue with the rest of the clean up, the black haired man insisting Grimmjow go to his office to answer his "fan mail" as he jokingly called it.

Grimmjow had rolled his eyes at this and excused himself, the man chuckling as he strode down the office corridors, removing his cassock as he went. He straightened his shirt out over his jeans as he slung the robe over the back of the door, and he sighed softly when he saw the pile of get well soon cards thrown unceremoniously upon his desk. Probably Shawlong's doing.

Grimmjow felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he carefully placed the cards in the nearby bin, the priest not feeling particularly thrilled about having to get the other clergymen to cover for him in such a way. Shawlong at least to some extent wasn't aware of what had  _really_ kept Grimmjow away for those five days, the man simply believing that Grimmjow really  _had_ been sick, but it was Szayel to whom Grimmjow felt the most grateful for at this moment.

After all, the man had known – had even yelled the sense right into him – about Grimmjow's extracurricular studying, and if it wasn't for him the blue haired priest would probably still be in his house trying to find the elusive information on that mysterious demon the town supposedly had.

Which reminded him. Speaking of the blond, he'd promised him he'd meet him in the town pub for lunch. Glancing at the clock he noted the time was 12 in the afternoon. He had just under half an hour to get himself over there.

"Alright, what have I got… keys, wallet…" Grimmjow muttered to himself as he rummaged around his office, feeling his pockets and checking to make sure the computer was turned off and everything was as tidy as it was before Shawlong had decided to decorate his desk.

" _Are you sure you don't need that book of yours?"_

Grimmjow's hand froze from where he was about to flick the light switch. He exhaled sharply, his eyes wide as he turned around to face whoever it was who had just spoken right by his ear.

His heart leapt into his throat when he was met with the emptiness of his office, the only one inside being himself… and himself only.

He was quiet for a few minutes.

"Hello?" Grimmjow called out, his voice dry as he glanced around him and down the corridor. He could have  _sworn_ someone was  _right there_ … it was that same voice from earlier on in the sermon, the voice he had simply pushed to the back of his mind. He grit his teeth and his expression quickly became angry.

"Shawlong if that was you I swear to the Lord…" He hissed, his eyes narrowing when he saw movement at the end of the hallway and the black haired priest walked through, having finished his clean up duties. The man in question lifted his head at Grimmjow's remark and a chuckle fell from his lips.

"Well considering I was the only one here this morning, who else would get the mail for you Father?" He countered, an eyebrow raising as he walked into his office. "What's wrong Grimmjow? Fan mail not up to your standards?"

Grimmjow was left blinking in dumbed shock.

"What? No that's not what I meant. Weren't you just talking to me a moment ago?" He asked, now looking entirely confused. Shawlong poked his head back around the office door, fixing the blue haired pastor with an odd expression.

"No." He answered, looking at the priest as if Grimmjow had announced he was skipping sermon from now on simply because he couldn't be bothered.

Grimmjow frowned, not feeling entirely convinced. However he let it slide, thinking this was just the old man's idea of a joke, and he settled on that as the only explanation as he left his office and turned off the light behind him.

"Whatever, I'm leaving now. See you next weekend Shawlong." He announced, lifting his hand in a wave as the black haired man grunted out his reply. Walking down towards the front doors Grimmjow snorted in disdain.

"If that was his idea of a joke it was in pretty poor taste." He grumbled, thinking back to Shawlong playing the 'innocent game' just a moment ago. He shook his head.

As he pulled the doors open he could have sworn he heard the sound of a soft, slow laughter echo close by his ears.

* * *

"And here he is! Welcome Father! Finally decided to grace us humble chapelgoers with your holy presence again, eh?"

Grimmjow flashed Kyouraku a wide grin when the brunet waved to him as the priest walked through the door of the pub. Around him the people already sitting in there for their own lunch and drinks rose their voices in a cheer, jeering and laughing along with the blue haired man as he waved it off and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." He chuckled. Kyouraku stepped out from behind the bar and motioned for the priest to follow him.

"Your other Father friend is upstairs waiting for you. He got here about five minutes ago." He spoke up to the priest, smiling as he pat Grimmjow on the back. Grimmjow thanked him and jogged up the stairs, his eyes glancing around the semi-filled top dining floor and locating a head of blond hair in the corner.

Grinning he walked over, settling himself down on the seat opposite Szayel. The blond looked up from the book he was reading and he rose an eyebrow, a grin of his own forming on his lips when Grimmjow turned his head to laugh at a group of men in the corner who hollered to him that they were glad to see he was back in business.

"Someone's popular this afternoon." Szayel announced when Grimmjow turned back to him. The blue haired pastor chuckled then gave a somewhat sheepish grimace.

"Yeah well… I guess I kind of have you and Shawlong to thank for that." He arched his own eyebrow at the younger man. Szayel shrugged his shoulders, closing the book he was reading and settling it on the side of the table next to him.

"What they don't know won't hurt them." He countered softly. Grimmjow sighed, nodding. That was true alright.

"While we're on the subject how are you feeling today, Grimmjow?" Szayel asked before Grimmjow could reply. The blue haired man blinked for a moment as the blond sat back further in his seat, his head cocked slightly to the side as he regarded the older man carefully behind his glasses. Grimmjow rubbed the back of his neck.

"A lot better than the other night, that's for sure." He admitted. "Listen Szay, I really do have a lot to thank you for. Sometimes I need to be put in my place and you were right… I didn't mean to take that week off but I…" He trailed off, his brows furrowing. Szayel smiled and shook his head, looking up when Kyouraku came over and placed some menus down in front of them before chortling merrily and jogging back downstairs.

"To be honest I would probably do the same thing if I was you." Szayel admitted, the man leaning forwards a little and lowering his voice slightly so they wouldn't be overheard. Grimmjow blinked, his eyes locking onto his friend.

"What? Why are you looking so surprised?" The blond blinked, lifting up a menu and opening it. "If someone goes on about demons I would like to know just what the heck is going on. But at the same time there's a fine line between curiosity and obsession, and you were crossing over very much into the obsession side of things."

Grimmjow sighed, picking up his own menu and nodding.

"Yeah… tell me about it." He grumbled. Szayel smiled faintly.

"So are you going to start explaining everything to me?" He asked quietly. Grimmjow cast a fatigued glance at his friend, pondering this for a moment before sighing heavily. He  _had_ promised he was going to explain himself to the younger man when he asked if he wanted to go out for lunch with him today. He nodded.

"Yeah." He replied, sitting back and chewing his lip. Szayel straightened up, his attention fully on the older man as he crossed a leg over the other under the table, his eyes gazing steadily at the pastor's face. It was a while until Grimmjow continued.

"Back when… Asano first had that confession with me… it was a couple of weeks after Nelliel starting going on about that demon. I didn't think much of it at first, but Asano isn't the type of kid to go making things up out of thin air. I guess it was that which left me wondering if Nelliel's words had some truth to them. I didn't believe it, I still don't to some extent… but when Nelliel saw me the other night and spoke to me… I just… I dunno Szay. What she said… it was almost word for word as to what Asano told me. I don't think it's a joke… but it has to be, right? I mean that book I borrowed certainly didn't tell me anything." He grumbled.

Szayel frowned.

"That certainly is odd…" He agreed. Grimmjow nodded. Szayel ran a hand through his locks.

"And you think this demon is still around, is that it?" He continued, still looking concerned as he glanced back at Grimmjow. Grimmjow shrugged.

"That's the thing isn't it? It's like you said, Szay. They don't exist. But the fact that I can't do anything about it either way even if they  _did_ … that's what annoys me the most. I feel like I could have prevented Nelliel being taken away if only I'd listened to her more whenever she came into confession. Maybe then she wouldn't have… taken the turn she did. Asano's very fond of her… he wouldn't have gone and made up that story to try and make her feel better—"

"I'm going to have to stop you there, Grimmjow." Szayel interrupted, Grimmjow blinking when he looked back at the younger man. Szayel's expression was hard.

"You realise you just contradicted yourself, right? A minute ago you said that Asano wasn't likely to make this up and Nelliel didn't appear to be off her head for once either. Now you're saying they were in on this together? Which one is it?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

Grimmjow couldn't reply for a moment.

"Uh…"

Szayel gave a humourless smile and nodded.

"I thought so." He sighed. "You're so confused by this you don't know what to make yourself think anymore. Let me rephrase my question… what do  _you_ , Grimmjow, not as a priest, but as someone who's been through probably more than half the town put together, think of this? What do you  _really_ believe?"

Grimmjow's answer was immediate.

"That they were telling the truth. Both of them." He whispered. Szayel gazed at him with an unreadable expression.

"Some people would call you insane." He murmured. Grimmjow's smile was bitter.

"Yeah, I know."

Szayel's lips pulled into a soft grin.

"It's a good thing I'm not 'some people' then." He announced, sitting himself back and unfolding his arms. Grimmjow blinked, almost having a hard time believing what he'd just heard.

"Are you—"

"Saying I believe you? Well I find no reason not to." Szayel shrugged. Grimmjow was left staring at his friend with a dumbfounded expression on his face, the priest almost unable to believe what he'd just heard pass the younger man's lips.

"But—"

"I thought over what I said the other night to you." Szayel began, turning his head to gaze out the window. He sighed again. "I know I was harsh… but when I got home I found myself thinking about everything that's been going on lately… I agree with you that something isn't right here. Heck, the whole  _town_ knows. And until we find some closure on this matter I don't think it's going to stop. But for the love of all that's holy Grimmjow, the next time you decide to bury yourself in a book for an entire week at least tell me so I can help you find what you're looking for." As he finished the man's pale lips twitched into a small grin, and Grimmjow at that moment found he wanted nothing more than to hug the man senseless for giving him this chance to prove himself.

"… You know people will find you insane." He countered, his blue eyes flashing mischievously. Szayel winked at him and chuckled.

"I'm probably halfway there." He waved it off, picking up the menu again and resuming reading. Grimmjow laughed, feeling beyond relieved at this point.

" _He already thinks you're crazy."_

Grimmjow froze in his seat. Szayel blinked, looking up and frowning when he saw Grimmjow turn his head from side to side, the man shifting in his chair as he glanced around him as if looking for someone.

"Grimmjow?" He questioned. Grimmjow quickly locked eyes on the blond.

"Did you hear that?" He asked. Szayel blinked again.

"Hear what?"

Grimmjow groaned faintly, shaking his head and waving his hand as if to tell the other to forget about it.

"No, nothing. Thought I heard someone call out to me for a sec." He mumbled. Szayel turned his gaze to the tables of patrons nearby.

"Wasn't them was it?" He inquired. Grimmjow grunted a little.

"Probably." He announced. He picked up his own menu and gazed at the lunch specials. Szayel watched him closely for a minute before shrugging again.

"I'm not all that hungry to be honest." He spoke up conversationally after a moment. Grimmjow chuckled.

"Yeah me either. Coffee?" He asked, grinning. Szayel returned the look and placed his menu back down.

"Sounds good."

Grimmjow laughed again, glancing up when Kyouraku stepped up onto the landing and waved to the two priests that he would be over in a second. All the while his heart was hammering away inside his chest.

_It was that voice again…_

Just who the heck was it?!

Though it wasn't the source of the voice this time which was leaving him baffled. It was what that low whisper had said.

_He already thinks you're crazy…_

Grimmjow glanced at the man opposite him from under the loose locks of his blue hair. His eyes narrowed.

_No… not Szay?_

Surely not. He just said it himself didn't he? He believed him. He wasn't given any further time to ponder this as the brunet bartender swept over, smiling widely at the pair.

"Ready to order, boys?" He asked cheerily.

"Just two coffees thanks." Grimmjow announced, clearing his throat and inwardly thankful his voice was steady. Kyouraku sighed, muttering something about their food not being that bad at the pub as he wrote down their order, the older man soon sweeping off back downstairs.

As soon as they were sure he had left the two turned to each other again.

"Grimmjow… can I ask you something?" Szayel spoke up after a moment. Grimmjow nodded. Szayel's brows crinkled in thought as he leant his elbows on the tabletop.

"This demon that they were going on about… did they say anything about it? Described it? If we're going to try and find out what they thought they were visited by, any physical or habitual description would be helpful." The blond continued. Grimmjow leant his own elbow on the table and nodded.

"Yeah I thought the same…" He sighed. "I dunno… it was really vague. And not entirely helpful." He admitted. Szayel arched an eyebrow.

"How so?" He asked. Grimmjow shrugged.

"They just said they saw it at night time… supposedly it was male. Something about yellow or gold eyes and surrounded in some kind of vapour or fog… they didn't see his face."

Szayel mulled this over, the man frowning again.

"Hmm…"

Grimmjow cracked a tired grin.

"Told you it wasn't much to go by." He chuckled drily. The blond just gave a weak smile in reply, Szayel running a hand through his hair again and chewing his bottom lip.

" _Anything else you want to give about my physical description? I'm sure he wants to think you're even more unhinged…"_

Grimmjow jumped, the man gasping audibly as he jerked his head to the side frantically, his eyes blinking as he glanced to his right from where that whisper had sounded directly next to his ear. Szayel also jumped back at the suddenness of Grimmjow's reaction, and the man's demands to know what the heck was going on died on his tongue when he saw the unfocused gaze in blue eyes.

"Grimmjow…?" He asked cautiously, chewing his lip again when he saw a few of the other patron's glances being directed on the blue haired priest. "Grimmjow what are you doing? You're being stared at!"

Grimmjow snapped his head back to gaze fearfully at the blond.

"Didn't you hear that?!" He hissed. Szayel was now looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Hear what?" He asked for the second time that afternoon, the man leaning forwards and offering faint smiles to the patrons the table across from theirs before he rounded on the priest and narrowed his eyes at him. "Grimmjow, no one said anything! What's gotten into you?"

Grimmjow couldn't move, the man gulping audibly. His heart was pounding so quickly he could hear the blood rushing through his ears, and his skin was chilled like ice was flowing through his veins.

He definitely wasn't imagining it this time. Someone… or some _thing_ … was talking to him. And he had a pretty good idea what.

He gripped the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned white and he shook his head frantically.

No… this was impossible… it… it couldn't be.

"N-nothing." He stammered, swallowing the dry lump in his throat. He grit his teeth.

_Calm down, Jaegerjaquez… you're just tired and stressed, is all._

"Clearly." Szayel looked unconvinced, the man pulling back slightly as he fixed a very concerned gaze on his friend. "You look like you've just seen a ghost… I don't know what's going on but there's definitely no one saying anything. Except for the people on that table over there." He motioned to the other patrons who had now turned back to their own food and conversations.

Grimmjow hastily accepted the coffee that Kyouraku placed on the table when the barman waltzed back over, humming loudly under his breath. He rose an eyebrow in amusement at Grimmjow's hurry to drain the cup, and Szayel continued to glance warily at the blue haired man even as he thanked the brunet for the drinks when he departed. Sipping slowly from his own coffee it was a while until Szayel spoke again.

"Grimmj—"

"I heard something." Grimmjow cut across from him, his eyes pleading as he gazed directly into amber brown irises. Szayel continued to sip his coffee, his expression clearly showing that he was impatiently waiting for Grimmjow to explain himself and his suddenly erratic behaviour.

Grimmjow's teeth clenched again and he drained some more of his coffee, slamming the cup with a little more force than necessary when he placed it back down on the table.

"In… in the church during sermon. And now…" He began, not really knowing why he was explaining this.

"And now what?" Szayel's tone was icy, the blond clearly not impressed with where this was going. Grimmjow felt his gut churn when he saw the look in the man's eyes. It was almost like he was questioning his sanity.

He felt his stomach drop.

"And… and now—"

" _Yes, go on by all means. Tell him how you've been hearing voices all morning."_ The low whisper seemed to caress his ears, the voice soft at first and then morphing into long, slow laughter.

Grimmjow was standing from his chair before he even knew what he was doing, and his fists slammed against the table as he squeezed his eyes shut and growled out harshly.

"Shut up!" He hissed.

He heard silence around him and he slowly opened his eyes, only realising too late what it was he had just done. He glanced around the dining room, and what he saw made him dearly wish the ground would swallow him whole.

Everyone was looking at him. All conversation had ceased, and eyes were trained intently on him, the expressions on the diner's faces nothing short of confused and shocked. Grimmjow swallowed thickly, his breath coming out as quiet pants as he slowly swivelled his cyan gaze to lock eyes with his friend.

Szayel was looking up at him with wide eyes, the man's mouth hanging open as if someone had just come forwards and slapped him in the face. He didn't blink, instead he continued to hold Grimmjow's gaze – the blond priest staring at the older man as if he truly had just lost his mind. Presently he snapped himself out of it, his eyes slowly narrowing behind his glasses. His voice, when he spoke up again, was a hissed whisper.

"Grimmjow…" He said lowly, a clear warning underlying his tone. "What are you playing at?"

His voice trembled at the end of his harsh demand, and Grimmjow knew he was scared.

He was about to reply when he heard it again – low, long laughter. Haunting sounding and directly by his ears. He clamped his hands to his earlobes, trying to cut the noise out.

"Grimmjow?!" Szayel's tone was raised, the priest now standing up himself as he gazed warily at the older man. He took a step towards him. The diners were whispering and looking at one another.

_Shut up… stop it…_ Grimmjow growled in his head. What the hell was going on?!

"Grimmjow!" Szayel called out again. He slowly extended a hand to touch it to Grimmjow's arm.

" _You_ are  _hopeless, Grimmjow…"_ The voice drawled, its low baritone mocking. Grimmjow flinched and slapped Szayel's hand away, causing the younger man to stumble back and gasp in shock.

"GET AWAY! STOP TALKING TO ME!" Grimmjow yelled, his hands clamping tighter around his ears as he shook his head, panting heavily. The priest inhaled sharply when he just realised what he had done, and he jerked his head up only to lock despairing blue eyes on the very scared looking face of his friend.

Szayel was gripping his hand like it had been burnt, the bright red marks on his fingers from the force of Grimmjow's blow being nursed in the blond's other hand. He stepped back, his brown eyes wide and his mouth gaping open and closed as if he was having trouble trying to find the words to speak.

Grimmjow could only gaze, stunned.

_Did… did I…_

"Szay…" He croaked out, his voice hoarse. The laughter echoing in his ears was now so loud, so unbearably loud he couldn't even hear himself think. He slowly raised trembling hands to grip at strands of his blue hair, pulling them tightly as he pleaded with the voice in his head.

_Shut up… shut up… SHUT UP!_

" _Look what you've done, Father…"_

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" He bellowed, Grimmjow turning around and racing down the flights of stairs, the priest's steps wild and frantic as he bowled the patrons over in his hurry to get out the door. He didn't stop even as he heard the loud call of his name from upstairs, Szayel sounding horrified.

He didn't stop even as he heard the villagers yelling and gasping, calling out to him to ask what had come over him all of a sudden. He didn't stop even as that laughter grew louder once again, growing more overwhelming, more  _real_ as it just…  _didn't… end…_

_What's happening… what's happening to me?!_

He tore through his house, his breathing heavy as he raced up the stairs two at a time, all the while his limbs trembling with exertion as he ran into the study. He growled out viciously when he kicked the wall, the picture frames and books shaking with the force of the blow. He gripped his head and flew towards the leather bound book upon the desk, cyan eyes darting feverishly from page to page as demon after demon flittered before his eyes.

_Where are you? Where are you?!_

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!" He yelled.

He froze when all he heard was a soft, pleasant chuckle ghosting past his ears.

" _I'm your worst nightmare."_

* * *

The news that one of Karakura Town's most well-loved and respected priests had struck out at his fellow clergyman while yelling hysterically about voices in his head swept through the tight-knit community like wildfire.

First it was Nelliel, now it was Father Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez who was being glanced at with wary concern – sometimes even fear – when people passed him by on the street. He'd locked himself in his house again for yet another week, and neither Shawlong nor Szayel bothered to cover up his absence next Sunday sermon by saying he was sick.

The townspeople had no doubt he was sick alright. Though they were thinking it was more a sickness of the mind. And that, combined with Nelliel's ramblings about demons barely two months prior certainly didn't bode well with the residents of the village.

People were already suspecting he was losing it – it was only a matter of time until the weight and strain of his job came crashing down around him. Others, namely the more superstitious of the lot said that he was possessed, and for those who loved conspiracies the remainder of the townspeople had jumped on that explanation as being absolutely outrageous… yet the most plausible. Whatever was up with him… it left everyone feeling afraid.

Some of the residents had even stopped showing up at Sunday sermons altogether, putting more strain on the remaining priests to try and organise liturgies on different days. Szayel's Friday night liturgies were almost overflowing with people, and the blond was feeling so overwhelmed to such an extent that he had all but pleaded with Shawlong to let him take the day off some few weeks later. The elderly priest had bitterly agreed, the black haired man cursing Grimmjow under his breath for his ill turn.

"Just what in God's good and holy name is up with that boy?" He growled after sermon one day. Szayel didn't have an answer.

They had to call in Father Lindocruz, the brunet from the next town over who served as a casual priest at Karakura Town every so often when the need arose. He filled in for Szayel's night sermons when the blond was absent and did the same for the remainder of Grimmjow's Sunday sermons, and this only made the people question more at Grimmjow's whereabouts.

They hadn't seen him in public for two weeks, though someone had said they saw him walking the park alone at night. This made the villagers mutter to one another, their eyes wary as they reached the unanimous conclusion that he had developed the same illness that had plagued Nelliel when she was still around.

There were even rumours the town mayor was debating whether or not to send him to the same institution in the city.

Whatever was going on with him, Father Jaegerjaquez's name was now becoming a taboo to be spoken of in the church, and the priests only wondered how long it would take until the townspeople demanded he be relocated elsewhere.

Through this all Szayel was growing increasingly more concerned about his friend, but every time he demanded with Shawlong that he be sent over to check on him, the black haired man refused it. So all the blond could do was wait and hope that Grimmjow would see enough sense to come back.

God knows the church needed it.

It had been another week and the blue haired priest was still reported to have remained locked in his home. Szayel had concluded the last liturgy on Friday night, the blond fatigued and weary as he tried his best to answer everyone's questions on what the church was planning to do with the disgraced priest. He had no choice but to make everyone leave early, saying that the priests were conducting a meeting that very evening to discuss the matter.

He hated lying to the townspeople as it went against everything he held dear as a man of the clergy, but he couldn't bear to deal with one more inquiry about his friend any longer. So he closed the doors behind the retreating villagers and told them that he would inform them of what the clergy's decision would be.

Though he really had no intention of doing so in the first place.

His steps quiet he strode towards his office, the blond's fine brows creased together in thought as he walked. The folds of his cassock rustled as he moved, and the lingering scent of candles from the sermon made the air smoky and fragranced. He needed rest, but he wouldn't go home until he called his friend up from the office to check on him.

He'd been doing that when Shawlong wasn't around – ringing Grimmjow up and asking if he needed anything. Each time the man would answer the phone his rough voice sounded hoarse and dry, as if he hadn't spoken for ages. It was severely heartbreaking to the blond, and tonight he promised himself that he would forcefully open Grimmjow's door and barge in if he didn't straighten himself up anytime soon.

So he was rather surprised when he opened his office door and glanced up, only to find that he wasn't alone in the room.

His shock of blue hair the first thing noticeable, Szayel could only gape as Grimmjow glanced up from the desk he was seated at, his cyan eyes hooded and dark with lack of sleep and his normally tanned complexion now pale. The look of distress and suffering in his eyes was enough to cut through Szayel's heart like a knife, and the blond priest quickly shut the door behind him as he raced up to the older man.

"Grimmjow? What are you doing here?! Are you alright?!" He whispered, tentatively reaching out a hand to touch it to the man's shoulder.

Grimmjow didn't even bat his arm away, the priest just silently standing from the desk and walking around it to face the younger man directly. Szayel slowly pulled his hand back and blinked, the confusion clearly evident in his gaze as he stared at the blue haired man. He really did look like he was death personified.

"… Gri—"

"I'm so sorry." Grimmjow's voice was a hoarse whisper as he reached out, and before Szayel knew what was happening he found himself embraced tightly, his brown eyes widening tenfold behind his glasses as he froze. He couldn't move as muscled arms wrapped around his back and held him close, Grimmjow burying his head against the man's shoulder and gritting his teeth. A strangled noise like a choked sob escaped his lips, and Szayel quickly snapped himself out of it as he slowly threaded his hands through blue locks, all the while the breath hitching in his throat as he wondered what the heck was going on with his friend.

"'M so sorry…" Grimmjow choked again next to his ear, his hold tightening around the slender man. Szayel took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Grimmjow…" He murmured softly. "What are you doing here? What's wrong?" He pat the man as comfortingly as he could on the back. Grimmjow shook his head.

"I need help." He croaked out. Szayel opened his eyes again.

"Was it the demon?" He spoke up, his eyes unblinking. Grimmjow nodded and he sucked in a deep breath, pulling away and stumbling into the seat opposite the desk. He buried his head in his hands and inhaled sharply, Szayel meanwhile taking a step back and gazing down at the priest. It was then he saw the leather bound book on the table and his eyes narrowed.

"I can hear him, Szay…" Grimmjow whispered, the man sounding stricken with fear. He lifted his head up to lock his eyes fearfully on the younger man, his gaze unfocused. "In my head… he won't stop… it's been weeks… I'm… I'm losing it. I have to be…"

Szayel turned his gaze away from the book and he took another step back, glancing at the older man uncertainly.

"And what's this 'demon' saying to you?" He questioned, his tone sounding as wary as his expression looked. Grimmjow gulped audibly.

"Everything." He whispered. "All the time, he… he's just  _there_ … I can't sleep… if I do he says the moment I close my eyes he'll find me… he keeps saying he knows… he knows of the darkness in my heart and I…" He trailed off, unable to continue. He growled and buried his head in his hands again.

Szayel meanwhile took one more step back, the man's face blank.

"Grimmjow…" He murmured carefully. He glanced back to the book. "I think you should stop reading that."

Grimmjow lifted his head again. His eyes were so wide they looked borderline hysterical, and a fractured gasp parted his lips.

"The book!" He exclaimed, whipping his head to face the leather bound tome on the desk. He scrambled for it, his fingers trembling as he ripped open the pages without mercy. Szayel continued to keep his distance, the man falling quiet and biting his bottom lip. His fingers trembled by his sides.

Grimmjow paid him no mind, all the while pages flying as he turned from one chapter to the next, his cyan eyes still wide yet suddenly very sharp looking.

"I was close, Szay… last night… he told me I was so close… I couldn't find out who he was before because, well… I wasn't listening properly to what Asano and Nelliel told me! He preys on those who sleep…  _that's_ why I couldn't find out what he was! The book… I remember flicking past the chapter once before… I didn't pay any mind to it then but now… now…" He laughed, the sound low and crazed as he elicited a triumphant cry, the man standing and slamming the book down upon the desk with so much force it made the table shake.

"I found it! At last!" He yelled. "I know who he is! It says here they normally prey on sleeping women, so that's why I couldn't make sense of this before! Don't you see, Szayel? This creature…" He paused, pressing his index finger to the page and trailing it under the script as he read. "'A demon in male form who, according to mythological and legendary traditions, lies upon sleepers, especially women… though many tales claim he prefers both genders… they do not obey exorcists, have no dread of exorcisms, show no reverence for holy things, at the approach of which they are not in the least overawed'…" He lifted his head, fixing his gaze on the blond who was now standing in the corner, Szayel's eyes wide behind his glasses.

Grimmjow's smile was near maniacal as it grew upon his lips.

"That's why he has no problem moving through this town… that's why he keeps speaking to me… he's not deterred by the fact I'm a priest… he just laughs at it… and poor Nelliel and Asano… they were some of the most devout people in this town… they were perfect targets…" His voice choked towards the end of his sentence and his expression was lethal as he slammed his fists down upon the table alongside the open book.

"I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!" He yelled, as if he was crying out to someone only he could see. "SHOW YOURSELF,  _INCUBUS!_ "

For the longest time the only sound in that office was his frantic breathing, Grimmjow glancing this way and that as he waited, desperately, for the beast to come out. He only hoped it would… after all, that past week the creature had taunted him relentlessly, saying if he could finally find out who he was, he might, just  _might_  grace himself with his presence.

Trying to call a demon out was certainly not a task to be taken lightly, and it would ruin him as a man of God. But he had to try… some buried, innate part of himself hoped beyond all hope that this maddening torture would end the moment he finally met that cursed demon face to face.

The silence ticked on and Grimmjow's hopes faltered. He was just about to scream out his fury when he heard it.

That maddeningly low, soft chuckling. He exhaled sharply.

"Oh  _very_ good…"

He felt his stomach lurch when that voice which had been haunting him for the past three weeks fell upon his ears. Not a whisper this time, like it had been previously. But very much audible. As if it was forming itself right beside him. It was too solid. Too  _real_.

And it was coming from…

He slowly turned his head, Grimmjow's expression despairing as he faced the blond in the corner, Szayel leaning with his back against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest. He was gazing at the blue haired man with an amused look on his pale features, and Grimmjow felt a violent wave of suspicion flood through him.

_No… it… it couldn't be…_

"Szay…" He croaked out. The man in question said nothing, instead continuing to regard the blue haired priest lightly under his glasses. A blond eyebrow arched.

"Szay…" Grimmjow whispered hoarsely again. "Don't tell me…" He was cut off when the blond priest's mouth slowly pulled apart into a grin… the smile nothing short of sly. Grimmjow could only watch, horrified and repulsed, as the man's pale red tongue slipped out and leisurely licked over his lips, almost as if he was savouring the sight of the distressed man in front of him. Amber brown eyes glinted behind black glasses which he reached up to remove and throw onto the ground beside him, and the man slowly pushed himself away from the wall. He took a step forwards.

"It took you long enough." He chuckled, his voice no longer that mild, soft-spoken tone that it usually was. It was  _that_ voice… that low, smooth baritone which spoke slowly, quietly, somehow irresistible yet utterly haunting at the same time. Grimmjow felt his chest constrict painfully and he stumbled backwards, gripping the edge of the desk.

"Szay…" He croaked again, shaking his head, his cyan eyes wavering and his pupils contracted in horror as he could only gaze helplessly at the man he thought was his friend. "It was… it was you…"

_The entire time…_

A low, long chuckle escaped the man's – no,  _demon's_ – lips, and brown eyes flashed mirthfully.

"Congratulations." He drawled, smirking. "I suppose some form of thanks is in order. I  _did_ promise you a glimpse of my true self, did I not?" As he said this, Szayel's grin widened into an unsettling flash of teeth, and Grimmjow could only stare, transfixed and held in place as the very skin melted off of the pale man's bones.

Blue eyes were unable to close, unable to look away even as Grimmjow was pushed back against the nearby wall, a loud cry escaping his lips when the force of the gust of wind which suddenly stirred and shook the very office ripped and pulled at his body around him.

The lights flickered, casting eerie shades of intermittent light over the demon even as his skin dripped and oozed as it trickled down his cassock in grotesque rivulets. Black vapours of fog rose to shroud the blond in their hold, rising along either side of his body first and folding over like ghostly wings, those amber brown eyes glowing behind the curtain of darkness that had become his very being… and those dark orbs mixed and lightened into a bright, vibrant gold before Grimmjow's very sight.

Grimmjow was shaking, the man terrified beyond all description. The vapours of fog from those ghostly wings coiled in the wind, as if they were misty talons which would reach out and drag him down at any given second. The creature took a step closer, a flash of something black and glossy visible under the shroud of darkness which even now was receding slowly, almost teasingly, as the onset of wind died down around the pair.

Grimmjow's heart was pounding, the priest frozen as he saw the legs first – slender, human looking legs encased in form fitting black boots, their heeled soles clacking quietly against the ground when the creature took yet another step closer. The fog grew higher, and more of his body was revealed – legs, hips and torso covered in nothing but the same form fitting leather his boots were made out of. Slender arms crossed against an equally slender yet muscled chest, the creature's body covered from neck to toes to fingers in that same black suit. Grimmjow's skin crawled when the man's fingers curled from where his arms were crossed, and he saw they ended in curved, unnatural talons. Wicked looking. Sharp.

The fog finally raised, the ethereal wings rising and fanning out before disappearing entirely in a phantom gust of wind, the lights flickering one last time before resuming their steady glow. The wind in the office died down as suddenly as it had come, and Grimmjow was left gasping for breath as he gripped the desk for support, the air feeling like it had been sucked out of his very lungs.

He raised his gaze slowly to the creature, and what he saw made his heart come to a stop.

The only part of the demon's body not covered in that form fitting leather suit was his face, his skin still that same pale colour it had been before. He even looked the same… his features were still youthful, handsome, delicate even. The only difference was his eyes. His eyes and his hair.

What were once honey blond locks were now a silken shade of pink, and as the low sweeping bangs covering his right eye slid away to reveal both of his eyes properly when the demon ran a taloned hand through his hair, Grimmjow felt the breath catch in his throat when he found himself unable to tear away from those deep golden irises, fully visible from the lack of glasses. Unnaturally gold. Nelliel's words from her confession floated back to him.

" _Eyes as gold as fire embers…"_

Grimmjow almost fell to the ground.

"Finally. Do you have any idea how irritating it gets being made to wear that?" The demon was talking again, his low, smooth voice washing over Grimmjow's ears as the creature tore at the last remaining shreds of the priest's cassock which was gripping his shoulders in ruined strands. The demon sighed, looking thoroughly unamused as he nonchalantly raised his hand holding the fabric, Grimmjow gasping when the material combusted in a bright orange flame and turned to ash in the demon's very palm.

The demon caught Grimmjow's reaction, and his eyes flashed as he formed another wicked, sly grin, lines of perfectly aligned white teeth visible under those pale lips. He upturned his palm, the granules of ash falling silently to the floor.

"Now then. Shall we restart with the introductions?" He murmured quietly, chuckling hauntingly once more. He arched a pink eyebrow.

"It's an honour to meet you, Father Jaegerjaquez."

 


	3. Chapter 3

Grimmjow couldn't speak.

All he could do was stare, his expression seeming to form one of permanent looking horror as he gazed at the demon in front of him. Try as he might, he just couldn't come to terms with what he had just witnessed. He'd seen a lot of things in his life… but nothing as impossible as that.

The pink haired incubus crossed slender arms over his chest again, his eyebrow still arched as he waited for the priest to respond. Seeing that he wasn't likely to get a vocal response from the man he rolled his glowing golden eyes.

"Normally it's customary to reply?" He drawled. Grimmjow snapped himself out of it.

"Y-you… what… what did you do to him?!" He whispered, his cyan eyes now glinting with anger as he rose a hand and pointed it accusingly at the beast. The demon looked amused. Frighteningly so.

"What did I do to him?" He echoed, enunciating each word slowly. He chuckled, his slim shoulders trembling as the laughter purred heartily from his throat. "Who are you talking about, Grimmjow?" He arched an eyebrow again.

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed, and an angered growl passed his lips.

"Don't talk to me like you know me." He threatened lowly. The demon's smile widened and his golden eyes flashed, a clear warning echoing in those captivating eyes. Despite himself Grimmjow almost felt the need to stand down – there was no doubt that the beast in front of him wouldn't hesitate to harm him if it came down to it. He could almost taste the raw power exuding from the creature, the air now dry and heavy.

He felt his mouth grow parched and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

The demon stepped forwards, the sound of his heeled boots echoing on the floor of the small office around them. His strides were long and slow, purposeful even, as he began his pacing around the blue haired man. He circled him.

Grimmjow felt like he was an animal being caged. His skin crawled as he felt those eyes trail over him – the man feeling as if nothing was hidden from the demon's overwhelming stare. It was like he was being studied. Like a specimen for research. He sucked in a sharp breath and clenched his teeth.

"Then how should I talk to you, hmm?" The demon mused quietly, all the while maintaining that slow, intimidating pacing. He circled in and out of Grimmjow's vision. All the while his voice filtered through his ears, as if caressing him from the inside out. "Because I  _do_ know you, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. I know you perhaps more than you know yourself." Grimmjow shuddered again. Nelliel's words once more flickered to the forefront of his mind.

" _His voice is of sin itself… he lures you, Father. He lulls you into false comfort… whispering sweet words to take you in and pull you under."_

He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. He would  _not_ fall to this thing. He  _wouldn't._

The sound of pacing stopped, and when Grimmjow opened his eyes again he saw the pink haired beast was directly in front of him, his head cocked to the side in curiosity and his gaze intrigued, as if he was reading Grimmjow's very thoughts. A slow smile spread hauntingly across those pale lips.

"I see she told you enough about me to warn you to be careful… good. Otherwise something would have gone horribly wrong with my calculations… and that  _rarely_ happens, I assure you." He chuckled again, his eyes seeming to flash once more. Grimmjow remained silent. The demon smirked.

"So just what will you do, Father? Hmm? What will you do when I succeed in pulling you under? Lulling you into false comfort?"

Grimmjow's eyes widened slowly. The demon's smile grew triumphant, knowing he had guessed correctly. He chuckled, resuming his slow pacing of the terrified man in front of him.

"What did you do to Szayel." Grimmjow ground out through gritted teeth, his demand no longer a question. He narrowed his eyes hatefully on the creature walking around him. Golden eyes slid sidewards to lock onto cyan blue, the incubus not once pausing in his steps.

"Szayel?" He smiled. "Who's Szayel?"

Grimmjow blinked.

"What a—"

"Surely you must be even more delusional than I realised if you still haven't fully figured it out yet, Grimmjow. And after I deemed you ready to show my true self to… I must say, that's a rather poor repayment for giving me such joy these past two months." The demon chuckled softly. Grimmjow almost yelled out when all of a sudden golden eyes were right in front of him, every limb in Grimmjow's body frozen when he felt the other's slender chest flush against his own, a cruelly clawed, taloned finger stroking slowly down the skin of his cheek and cupping under his chin.

He felt repulsion and fear course through his spine – the demon was so close he could breathe in its scent, a sweet fragrance which at any other time the blue haired man would have found quite pleasing. Strands of pink hair brushed over his forehead, and he couldn't even swallow when those eyes gazed directly into his own, their mouths so close they were almost touching… he couldn't even muster the strength to push him away.

"'Szayel', as you knew him… never existed." The demon whispered, a sharp gasp escaping Grimmjow's lips when the creature pulled away as suddenly as he had drawn close, resuming his pacing of the trapped priest.

Grimmjow shook his head, feeling unusually dizzy.

"Wh-what do you mean?" He stammered weakly. The demon tilted his head back and sighed.

"Really now, must I continuously spell things out for you?" He murmured quietly, locking a lazy gaze back on the priest again. "He never existed. As in he was merely a vessel created by me to live unassumingly in your pathetic excuse for a town here _._ Did you think that my powers only extended to luring poor souls to Hell when they were sleeping?" He chuckled. Grimmjow felt sick.

"So he… he…"

"He was a figment of everyone's imagination. Yes, Grimmjow. Even yours." The incubus stopped pacing, his expression now serious as he gazed at the priest. "You human minds are so easy to manipulate… it's quite sad when you think about it…" He continued, as if more to himself than to the man in front of him.

Grimmjow closed his eyes and gripped his forehead.

He felt like he would vomit.

"Szay…" He choked out. In front of him the demon rolled his eyes.

"If you're going to stand there mourning the disappearance of someone who was never real in the first place, that makes you even more crazy than a man doing the work of your so-called 'God'." His tone was sharp and carried with it thorough irritation. Grimmjow slowly raised his gaze to the creature.

"… What did you say?" He whispered. The incubus narrowed his eyes.

"Are you that hard of hearing?" He murmured lowly. "Your God is more a figment than your friend was, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. You said it yourself didn't you? You doubted your Lord's existence even when you became a priest."

Grimmjow collapsed into the nearby chair, wheezing sounds escaping his lips as he fought to suck in sharp breaths of air. When he eventually focused cyan eyes back on the demon watching him, his expression was mortified.

"But… what about… you told me… you had a brother… Yylfor—"

"One has to have a story, do they not Grimmjow? I consider myself a fine actor. How else was I supposed to gain your trust if I didn't have an equally tragic tale of my own to tell you?" The demon smirked, his smile nothing short of cruel. His golden eyes flashed once more. "Yylfordt and Szayelaporro Granz do not exist. If you can't comprehend that yet despite me telling you twice more than necessary, I really don't know why I bothered to maintain such an interest in you in the first place."

Grimmjow couldn't hear his thoughts over how loud his heart was pounding in his ears. He was feeling so many emotions… so many feelings of hurt… distrust…  _hate_ … that he couldn't concentrate anymore. His eyes narrowed venomously on the demon in front of him.

"So everything was a lie then, was it?" He whispered. The demon sighed.

"Lie, fabrication of reality, exaggeration of false events… whatever you want to call it. Really, Grimmjow. Do show some common sense. I'm wondering why I even picked you."

Grimmjow paused.

"What do you mean?" He stammered. A pink eyebrow arched again, the demon's lips pulling into another sly grin.

"What do I mean?" He repeated softly. He chuckled again. "What I mean, Father Jaegerjaquez, is that from the moment you left your mother's womb you were marked down as someone I had a rather profound interest in."

Grimmjow stared at him, his knuckles cracking over his knees from how tightly his hands had curled into fists.

"How…?" He croaked. The demon's gaze softened, and for a moment Grimmjow almost thought it looked… understanding. He quickly roused himself out of it when he reminded himself that this was a  _demon_ , and it was a part of his perverted game to get him where he wanted him. He clenched his jaw. He would  _not_ give him any such satisfaction.

The air was sucked out of his lungs when the creature moved once more seemingly in the blink of an eye, and Grimmjow didn't realise he was gazing directly into golden eyes until he saw them right in his face. He yelled out and repulsion shivered violently through his body for the second time when he felt clawed hands grip gently yet firmly over his knees, the demon's forehead barely millimetres away from touching his own. Grimmjow was unable to blink at the close proximity, and he found his gaze wavering between those deep coloured eyes and the paleness of those firm looking lips.

"Your heart is full of darkness, Grimmjow." The demon whispered, his voice soft and silken smooth as it washed over Grimmjow's ears, the priest feeling the soft puffs of breath over his lips as the incubus spoke. His sweet scent washed over him, leaving him feeling dizzy once more, and he willed himself to maintain a hold on his mind as long as he could. He made to reach up and shove the creature away from him but was awarded with his hands colliding with thin air, a yelp of shock parting Grimmjow's lips when he glanced up to see the demon standing where he was just a split moment ago.

The cruel smirk was back in place on that mouth, and Grimmjow wasn't given any time to marvel at the inhuman speed of the creature as that low voice sounded once again.

"I do believe Nelliel told you on my request, did she not? I certainly hope she did. By the time I was finished with her she was practically begging to do anything I asked, insatiable whore that she was." He chuckled darkly.

Grimmjow's mind went blank.

" _The demon is drawn to people with dark hearts. If he should find you… and he will… there will be no escape."_

He bowed his head and closed his eyes. He could almost feel the knowing smile forming itself on the demon's lips.

"So she  _did_ tell you… good. I'll have to give her a proper thank you when I see her in Hell." He laughed. Grimmjow's hands clenched tighter over his knees.

"Is that what you did to Asano too? Take away everything that kid had and send him on a one way trip down there?" He hissed lowly. The demon stopped laughing.

"Yes." He replied simply. "And it's where you'll be going by the time I've had my fill of you as well."

Grimmjow bit out a harsh laugh.

"Oh yeah? What makes you think that,  _demon_?" He spat, glaring angrily at the pink haired beast. Golden eyes flashed and a pale red tongue darted out to lick once more over firm looking lips.

"Oh that's a good expression…" He crooned softly, his smile nothing but lewd. Grimmjow shivered, feeling utterly disgusted. The demon noticed this and smirked again.

"Oh don't be like that." He whispered. "I assure you long before it's over you'll be  _begging_ me to keep going… that brat made enough noise to wake that demented woman up, and she was even louder than him when her turn came around. It was very amusing on the whole." He laughed. His smile soon faded and became replaced with a curious gaze. "Though I must admit I wouldn't mind hearing you over and over again… I do believe you'll be a rather… unique… case."

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed.

"You can shove it somewhere else. I'm  _not_ going to give myself up to you so easily." He growled. An excited expression danced in the demon's golden eyes, and he sighed in a rather content fashion.

"Oh but that's where you're wrong, Grimmjow. You do realise the more anger you give me the more susceptible it makes you to everything, yes? Why do you think I've been following your progress since you were born, hmm? Come now. Tell me." The demon sat himself down atop the desk, crossing one leather-clad leg over the other, his clawed fingers lacing over his knee as he cocked his head and studied the blue haired priest intently.

Grimmjow paused, wondering if he should continue. Every cell in his body screamed at him to be wary, to not trust the creature in front of him… but at the same time some deep, hidden curiosity he had pressed at the back of his brain; he wanted to know. So he answered.

"You said that… you were drawn to people with dark hearts." He whispered. The demon remained silent, still gazing intently at him. Grimmjow found his eyes narrowing as he looked at the figure seated at the desk, his eyes raking over the form of the demon. He was quiet for a moment.

"… It's because I grew up in the city, wasn't it?" He murmured, more to himself than the demon though he knew it could probably hear him anyway. "I had an abusive childhood… the things I saw… the things I did…"

He stopped talking when he saw that sly smile reform itself on the creature's lips.

"The people you murdered…" He whispered softly. Grimmjow's eyes widened.

"What did you just say…?"

The demon's smirk grew poisonous.

"You heard, Grimmjow. You can try and bury it as much as you want under that fractured violent conscience of yours… but you can never escape from the memory of those three priests you killed in cold blood." His words were so quiet… yet so hauntingly tender as he spoke them. Grimmjow shook his head.

"No…" He whispered. The demon continued, his smirk widening as he knew he had struck a nerve.

"They were the men who killed your foster father in that chapel."

"No…"

"—You raced in there and stabbed them after you saw how they tore your father apart—"

"No!"

"—You revelled in the blood as it seeped over your skin and warmed your cold heart. You  _murdered_ those priests Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez—"

"Shut up!"

"—You  _SLAUGHTERED_ them, Father! You  _LAUGHED_ as you plunged that dagger right into their chests—"

"SHUT UP!"

"—AND DO YOU KNOW WHO MADE THOSE PRIESTS TURN ON THAT MAN, GRIMMJOW? DO YOU?" The demon's cry was ecstatic as he yelled, his gold eyes wild and crazed as he laughed loudly at the man trying so hard to keep himself under control. Grimmjow rose his trembling hands to his ears, clamping his fingers down tightly to try and block out the sound of that laughter trilling in his earlobes. He shook his head, already knowing the answer… and also knowing that he would well and truly snap if the creature continued any more.

Which he also knew was exactly what the demon was betting on.

"Shut up… please…" He whispered weakly. The demon threw his head back and laughed harder.

"IT WAS ME! Oh if only you could have seen the look on your poor foster father's face when his fellow clergy turned on him… it was  _delicious_. The fear in his eyes, the hatred, the loathing… all of it! I made his friends kill him and just as expected you were right there to answer his last dying breath by drawing blood of your own… I was proud of you that day, Grimmjow. And I knew then from that moment on you were  _mine_ —"

" _SHUT THE FUCK UP!_ "

The laughter promptly stopped when Grimmjow flew out of the chair, his fist flying as he drew it back and made to punch the demon in the face. Hatred was seething through his limbs, his blood pumping and boiling with white-hot rage – so much so he was almost seeing red. His yell of anger was cut short when his fist collided with nothing, an empty desk meeting his eyes almost the second he stood from his chair. He was breathing rapidly, his chest aching as he panted harshly. He glanced this way and that, trying to determine where the demon disappeared to.

"I couldn't wait to  _sink my teeth into you_ …"

Grimmjow's cry of revulsion was cut short when he felt slender yet strong arms slowly slide around his waist from behind, the man feeling the air constricted from his lungs as his torso was embraced in an iron-like grip. He was helpless to do nothing except stand, completely still and unable to move, as those clawed talons trailed sickeningly slowly over his chest, feeling the planes of his abdomen through his cassock. A lone taloned finger traced against the flesh of skin visible of his neck, and locks of pink hair brushed his cheek as the demon rested his head against the crook of the man's neck.

His body was warm, not unwelcomingly so, and his touch sent shivers shooting through Grimmjow's spine. Shivers which had nothing to do with the overwhelming rage seeking to take control of his mind. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, groaning in defiance when the lips of the demon moved, so tantalisingly close to his ear.

"But it didn't end there, did it Grimmjow?" He whispered, his voice soft and filled with understanding. Grimmjow knew better than to trust that tone of voice. He knew the demon was lulling him into that false sense of security Nelliel had warned him of. He tried to struggle free but doing so earned him a tighter squeeze of his chest from the demon and he choked for air. The incubus chuckled darkly, the sound echoing in his ears as that clawed finger traced over his cheek, slowly, ever so lightly, as if barely touching. His other taloned hand slipped lower to still at Grimmjow's hip, the priest completely at mercy in the demon's hold.

"You loved the rush that killing gave you… it made you feel like nothing else had… not even sex or drugs…  _nothing_ could make you feel more  _alive_ than seeing the blood staining their broken and torn bodies…" The demon crooned sweetly, his teeth gently sliding against the shell of Grimmjow's ear and making the priest shiver violently, another angered groan parting his lips. He tried to shove the creature off him again, but he was awarded with another tightened squeeze of his chest – so tight he gagged for breath and choked so hard his throat felt it was being rubbed raw. His eyes watered and all he could do was listen, listen as that echoing chuckle of laughter vibrated in his ears and warm lips grazed ever so slightly down the line of his jaw.

"Please… stop it…" The priest whispered brokenly. The demon smiled.

"I'm only telling you what you yourself know, Grimmjow." He reminded him, his clawed talon stroking up the man's chiselled cheek and then moving to run through the strands of his tousled blue locks and stroking as if one would a pet. Grimmjow bit back another violent wave of repulsion – the man feeling sick at the almost pleasant feeling it gave him. He tried to maintain a hold of himself – he had to run. Run away. Do  _something_ to escape from the creature.

"You can wish to run away as much as you want, Grimmjow… but in the end you only brought this on yourself." The demon murmured, his tone no longer carrying with it any hint of amusement. He sounded serious. Almost saddened. Grimmjow's eyes opened.

"Wha—"

"Especially that one night when you lost control… you were too crazed, too enraptured in the ecstasy of drawing blood… you took your lover and threw him to the ground, you pulled that knife and you  _watched and laughed as the light faded from his eyes_ …"

Grimmjow gave a strangled cry, the man now violently struggling and yelling in any attempt he could make to get away. The scene flashed in his mind – that one memory above all others he never wanted to resurface. The darkest, most evil moment of his life that had made him broken, had carved out what last shred of goodness he had inside of him and tortured him nightly ever since in his restless, maddening dreams. He saw the blood, he felt the blood wash over his hands, he saw himself laughing…

"What was the boy's name?" The demon whispered, his pale lips now forming a grin so wide it was almost predatory.

"No…" Grimmjow pleaded desperately, trying to turn his head to lock eyes with his captor and convince him to stop talking. "Please… stop it… don't…"

The demon's eyes glinted with delight, and he chuckled as he slowly, ever so slowly wrapped his clawed fingers around the man's neck, Grimmjow sucking in a strangled breath when he felt the sharpness of those talons cut teasingly into the flesh of his throat.

The demon lowered his head, and he whispered once more into the priest's ear.

"… Ichigo, wasn't it?"

He screamed.

The demon laughed, long and clearly as Grimmjow screamed and screamed, bellowing at him to let him go, the man desperately thrashing like a wild beast as he fought against the iron-like grip the incubus had on him. Those cyan eyes were almost burning with rage, angered tears threatening to pool down the man's cheeks as his mind shattered and broke inside of his head. The demon licked his lips and simply laughed harder, knowing that he was winning slowly, ever so slowly.

"GET THE FUCK OFF OF M—"

Grimmjow's yell was cut short once more when those talons tightened again around his neck, and he fought the urge to gag as the air was constricted teasingly from his throat. The demon's other hand gripped harder along his hip, his claws digging almost painfully into the flesh near Grimmjow's thigh. The priest winced, groaning and holding back the angered tears as best he could, his heart aching as he felt himself threaten to spin down and vomit.

"Shh…" The demon gently clamped his teeth around the shell of Grimmjow's ear again, causing the man to immediately forget about struggling and suck in another sharp breath. The incubus could feel the shiver coursing through the man's muscled limbs, and he smirked.

"Yes… Kurosaki Ichigo… unmistakable orange hair… warm brown eyes… boyish features… I remember him well."

Grimmjow's eyes snapped open and he tried to jerk his head sharply to the side to lock his eyes once more on terrifying golden, the only thing preventing him from doing so being the hold the creature had around his neck.

"Wha… what?!"

He fell silent when a clawed talon moved from his neck to press against his lips, silencing him from making any further noise. Grimmjow was only able to watch, watch hatefully as those golden eyes slid to lock onto his own, the demon's expression truly indicating just how much he was enjoying this. The smile softened on those pale lips, and the beast embraced him tighter as he rested his head back against the crook of the man's neck, sighing peacefully as if he was embracing a lover.

"I visited him once before, you know." He murmured. Grimmjow froze. "Why else do you think he announced that night he'd fallen for someone else?"

Grimmjow trembled, the man's mouth opening and closing as he tried to form the right words to speak. The demon laughed softly.

"Yes… he'd admitted he wasn't faithful to you… he betrayed your trust… he already knew you were a murderer… he was scared, Grimmjow. Frightened at what you'd become. He needed comfort, love, affection… and you weren't there to give it to him. Fortunately I happened across that one night… oh the sounds he made…" The demon's eyes flashed as Grimmjow yelled out once more, the man trying his hardest to battle against the grip on him. The anger, the hurt, the suffering was stamped clearly in those expressive cyan eyes, and the demon nearly purred in satisfaction as he saw the life spread through that gaze which had been lifeless and masked for so long – Grimmjow having spent too many of his years living in the peace and false security of the church. He needed to be reminded of who he really was. And that was  _exactly_ what the demon was doing.

His lips formed that cruel smile yet again as he leant over the man's shoulder, his lips ghosting so close to the corners of Grimmjow's mouth. Close enough to touch, if he so wanted. He felt the man intake another sharp breath at the proximity.

"He was perfect for my needs… and what I needed that night, Grimmjow… was for you to take that knife… and plunge it into his tainted heart."

That did it.

With a yell of rage Grimmjow finally managed to pull himself free, the folds of his cassock billowing as he span around and collided with the beast before he had a chance to pull back. Blue eyes were wide, black pupils contracted into mere slits as he clamped his hand forcefully around the slender neck of the demon and slammed him into the nearby wall, Grimmjow pinning the slim frame of the beast underneath him as he dug his fingers sharply into that throat and squeezed with all his might.

The demon's eyes widened momentarily, pink locks brushing over his face as he was pushed harshly against the granite, the priest's muscled body trapping his as his hands continued to tighten in a snake's hold around his neck. He had been expecting this reaction from the priest, but not so soon. The man before him really was a most intriguing human.

Grimmjow was seeing red, the man's chest heaving as he panted heavily, gritting his teeth and a feral growl loosed from his lips as he wanted nothing more than to cut, slice, maim and  _tear_  the demon apart for being the cause of death of the one person he had ever truly cared for in all his miserable 28 years of life.

"I hate you…" He hissed, his voice barely recognisable as he leant in closer to the demon's face. Golden eyes remained unblinking. Grimmjow's rage only increased. " _I'LL KILL YOU!_ "

The demon smiled.

Grimmjow momentarily faltered, his fingers lessening in their grip around the creature's neck. In doing so he gave the incubus the opening he needed, and the next moment Grimmjow cried out when a leather-clad leg slid up to lock around his hips and nestle neatly behind his back, the demon simply chuckling and pulling the priest closer against his body as with both hands he tore the man's fingers away from his neck, bending his fingers back in the process and making Grimmjow cuss in agony.

The demon sighed, keeping one strong grip on Grimmjow's hands whilst reaching up with his free hand to stroke his fingers once more through tousled blue locks. Grimmjow winced, finding himself unable to look away as he was held helplessly against the slender body moulded against his own, the two so close he could feel the rise and fall of the creature's chest under his own and each individual layer and buckle of the leather suit encasing him.

Those fingers tugged tightly in his hair and Grimmjow groaned lowly when he found his head yanked forwards so his forehead was now resting against the demon's, the priest unable to move or look anywhere away from intense golden eyes. He felt the soft puffs of breath from the creature's mouth over his lips, and the sweet scent of the demon washed over his senses again and threatened to make his muscles grow lax. He groaned again, trying to fight back the urge to give in.

The demon smiled again, seeming content with their position against the wall as he tightened his leg around the priest's back, his thigh still hooked around the man's muscled form. He stroked those bright blue locks with his clawed fingers again, pulling his hand down only to press against the man's cheek and keep his palm there, still gazing unblinkingly into those rage-filled blue eyes burning as bright as fire.

"Let go of me." Grimmjow growled lowly. The demon didn't respond. Grimmjow felt more shivers of revulsion creep over his spine the more he was held like this, the more he was pushed against that slim frame which fit against his far more snugly than he would have liked. He closed his eyes, his jaw clenching the more that hand stroked his cheek and rested there.

" _Get the fuck off of me_."

"So good…" The demon purred silkily, chuckling again. "The anger in your eyes… I've waited far too long to see that."

Grimmjow growled again and opened his eyes, locking his hateful gaze back onto those blazing golden irises staring directly into his own with an awe-filled expression. He rested his forehead further against the demon's, their lips so close they could almost graze together if one of them spoke now.

"Oh yeah?" Grimmjow whispered. "You'll see a lot more if you  _don't let me go._ "

The demon arched a pink eyebrow and smirked widely.

"Do you really think such threats will work against me, Grimmjow?" He murmured softly. "What happened to you claiming you wanted to kill me just a moment ago? Hmm?"

Grimmjow chuckled.

"Oh I'll kill you alright…" He growled. "I want nothing more than to see you standing there as I carve out that fucking heart of yours. I want to see that smirk die on your lips as that light fades from your eyes. I'll bathe in your blood,  _demon_. I'll fucking  _murder you_. And oh god will I  _enjoy it_."

A soft noise parted the demon's mouth, breathy and low, almost as if it was an ecstatic moan.

"Oh I'm sure I will too…" He whispered breathlessly, his smile turning nothing short of lewd once again. "However… what makes you think you can kill me? I'm certainly not human. What do you, as a lowly, easily manipulated creature with a resolve that wavers as much as your unsteady gaze think you can do to possibly  _end me_?"

Grimmjow's eyes widened ever so slightly, and the demon's smile softened again.

"That's right, Grimmjow." He murmured, stroking the man's tanned cheek once more. "You can't. You can't kill me and you  _know_  it. Why do you want to though, hm? Is it because I've been watching you since birth? Selectively picking off those you care about around you one by one and ever so slowly but surely encasing your heart in darkness? I made you like this, Grimmjow. You belong to  _me_. You can't kill me… because you know that only I can give you what you really, truly want… more blood… more pain… more suffering… more death."

Grimmjow clenched his teeth and his eyes squeezed shut, the man shaking his head.

"No…" He whispered hoarsely. The demon continued to stroke his cheek.

"It's true, Grimmjow. You know it."

"No…"

"You have no heart, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. You have no heart and your soul is almost forfeit."

" _No!"_ Grimmjow hissed as his head fell forwards to rest against the demon's neck, the man's shoulders trembling as he fought to keep a hold of himself, try and stop himself from falling prey to those twisted words…

A soft sigh sounded near his ear, and Grimmjow felt the incubus gently rest his head against his own, both hands now sliding up to lace around his back and hold him in a soft embrace.

"You can't fight it, Grimmjow. You know what's happening to you. That mark on your chest is only going to get worse. It's time to give in. You knew, deep down in your conscience, that the moment you first heard my voice in your head I had come to collect what was mine… you knew that's why I came here… slowly turning the whole town against you… making you think you were insane…"

Grimmjow sucked in a sharp breath against the demon's neck and groaned lowly. The demon's eyes closed.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" He whispered, his voice soft, understanding. No longer mocking. "I know it does. I can feel the ache in your soul."

Grimmjow blinked, all previous desire to rip the creature off of him now fading and nulling down into nothing. He slowly lifted his head, his mouth opening and closing in stammering motions. His brows twitched, and the gaze in his eyes grew more incredulous than vengeful.

"How…" He swallowed, trying to moisten his mouth enough to speak. "How did you… k—"

"I told you, Grimmjow." The demon murmured gently, his golden eyes gazing kindly at the distressed priest. "I know everything about you. Perhaps even more than you know yourself."

With that the clawed hand moved, trailing down Grimmjow's chest to hook at the buttons on the front of his cassock, tearing the fabric across with one flick of his wrist and trail of his talons, revealing the expanse of the man's toned and muscled chest to the two.

Golden eyes trailed down, the demon eliciting a faint sigh as he settled his gaze on one area of the man's chest in particular. Grimmjow froze, his own eyes following, and what he saw made his head feel dizzy.

"It's… really that bad now?" He whispered hoarsely.

The demon flickered his gaze back up at the priest, nodding solemnly.

"You know what this means, don't you Grimmjow?" He whispered. "Your time is up."

Grimmjow clenched his jaw, a bitter chuckle parting his lips as he glanced back down. A tear dripped down his cheek as he ran a hand over his eyes.

" _Shit_."

The hole on his abdomen had grown.

It had been something he'd always had since he was a child. No one could determine what it was. It had started out as simply a small dark colouration of the skin, like a freckle. Gradually though, the more he grew, he would notice it had grown in size and form.

His foster father had declared it was the work of Satan. His foster mother thought the same.  _That_ was why they forced their adopted son to join the church. Grimmjow had hidden the truth of that story, buried it deep inside of him along with every other dark moment of his past the moment he had decided to take up a role in the clergy for good. They thought if he could become a priest, the mark would fade.

They called it the Devil's Mark.

It never disappeared. And when he had killed those priests… had killed his lover… had slaughtered everyone he held dear… it had grown and grown. Now it was larger than the size of his fist.

And it was completely hollow.

Grimmjow grit his teeth when the demon's clawed fingers moved, gently circling around the muscle of his abdomen before dipping slowly inside the carved hole in his chest. Grimmjow didn't even feel anything. He could only watch, his eyes clouded as he stared, helplessly, as that hand went right through and straight out towards the other side. He would have laughed if he could have at that moment – when he'd last attempted that, he had screamed in agony. It felt as if he was carving his very heart out when he had tried to dip his hand into the hole in his skin out of morbid curiosity. It hadn't been fully opened then, but he could almost feel it nearing its final stage of growth.

He locked eyes on the demon.

How ironic it was that only the creature who gave him this mark would be able to handle him, hold him like that, touch him without causing the slightest ounce of pain to break out over his body. The knowledge of that hurt like all Hell.

In fact, he knew it was probably supposed to.

"So this was your plan all along was it?" He chuckled drily as soon as the demon had pulled his hand back out, the incubus regarding the hole with intrigue. Golden eyes slowly slid back up to lock with cyan. "Give me this mark before I was even born and then drag me under with you the moment you made me commit enough sins to permanently taint my soul?"

The demon smiled.

"How remarkably astute of you, Father. It took you  _this_ long in our conversation to finally piece that together?"

Grimmjow scoffed.

"Don't bullshit me." He growled. He reached out and fisted his hands tightly through silken pink locks, drawing his face closer to the demon's so their eyes were gazing directly into one another's once again. "You really think after all you've done I'll just come quietly? Go fuck yourself."

The demon chuckled.

"Oh you'd like that wouldn't you?" He mused. "However I don't think that would be as pleasurable somehow."

Grimmjow made a face of disgust and let go of the demon's hair.

"I don't know why you're so adverse to this, Grimmjow. In a sense you'll be coming home after all. This mark I gave you sentenced you to my realm. You have no choice in the matter whether you wish to believe it or not. I promise I'll take good care of you." The demon's reddened tongue flicked out in a seductive motion over his pale lips once more, Grimmjow trying his best to steel his heart as he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the almost hypnotising sight.

"And you… think that all you've done for me so far is taking good care of me, do you?" Grimmjow hissed. The demon rolled his eyes.

"What? You're going to drag me under only to torment me more? Make me kill again and again? Is that it?" Grimmjow paused, his eyes narrowing as another thought entered his brain. "Or are you going to make me like you? Build another demon in your dysfunctional ranks and make me turn innocent people on their own loved ones as well?"

The demon refocused his gaze on Grimmjow's, his eyes now sharp.

"Don't be ridiculous." He answered bluntly. "You? A demon? What makes you think you've earned that right?" He hissed. Grimmjow blinked in confusion. The demon scoffed derisively. "You, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, are by all definitions nothing but a plaything to our kind. I certainly don't see you as any more than that, that's for sure. You haven't been the first great source of amusement for me and you certainly won't be the last, either. I've brought down many like you. Men, women, it doesn't matter. Don't insult me." He sneered.

Grimmjow was silent for a moment. And then a slow smile spread across his lips.

"It's a pity." He mused, causing the pink haired incubus to arch an eyebrow at him again. "I was almost hoping you'd give me that rare opportunity… I might be able to finally melt the flesh from your bones, Szayel."

The demon blinked, his golden eyes narrowing.

"I have no name." He whispered.

Grimmjow's smile grew cruel.

"Which is why I'll call you the name you used when you came here. It gives me one more thing to loathe about you for eternity. If I'm going to Hell, I'd rather scream the name of the one who killed me the moment he showed his face in this town and dragged my hollow soul right from my chest by spreading his lies. That way, I'll have that last shred of hate to always hold onto." He spat.

There was an intense silence. Presently, it was broken by pale lips spreading into a slow, dangerous grin.

"If that's what you wish." The demon hissed venomously. Grimmjow smirked, pulling himself away from the incubus. He gazed hardly at the leather-clad creature, as if daring him to try something. Szayel merely cocked his head to the side, that same dangerous smile still plastered over his lips.

"What is it?" Grimmjow growled. The demon pulled away from the wall, his steps fluid as he chuckled softly. The sound of his boots echoed in the office as he walked, his arms moving to fold across his chest again.

"It would seem we're no longer alone in this chapel, Father Jaegerjaquez." He spoke up conversationally. He slowly flickered his gaze towards the blue haired man. "We have company. In the altar room."

Grimmjow fixed a seething glance on the demon as he pushed past him, his strides quick and angered as he walked down the office corridor. All the while he was aware of the incubus following, keeping that same leisurely pace as he effortlessly matched his strides.

Grimmjow didn't know whether to be relieved or wary when he stopped short of the altar as they entered, seeing a group of three people gathered. He recognised Shawlong at the front, Father Lindocruz on the man's right and the town mayor on his left. They had their heads bowed in conversation as the blue haired pastor approached, and they drew their heads up as soon as they realised they were not alone.

The shock on their faces was visible even from where Grimmjow was standing.

"Gentlemen." He greeted, thankful his voice was steady. He saw Szayel seat himself down atop the altar, crossing one leg over the other as the pink haired incubus swept his gaze over the trio, a sly smirk upon his lips. Grimmjow had no doubt the demon knew exactly what was going on here, and that made him all the more determined to not ask him.

By the looks of things the priests couldn't even see him anyway, so he surmised it would be safer to keep his mouth shut for the moment.

"Grimmjow…" Shawlong's dark eyes widened, and the man took a moment to regain his composure as he cleared his throat. "We didn't think you'd be here."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, watching the remaining priest and the mayor exchange wary gazes. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked back at Shawlong.

"I'm not allowed to spend a quiet moment with the Lord?" He asked, a blue eyebrow raising. He tried to ignore the amused chuckle which came from the demon behind him. The sound echoed around the chapel, but none of the men in front stirred as if they had heard it.

_They can't see or hear you… can they?_ Grimmjow growled inside his head. He scoffed faintly when sure enough he heard the demon's reply, that liquid smooth voice caressing over his mind like he was whispering into his very ears.

" _No."_

Grimmjow ran a hand through his hair. Well then. That was all he needed right now.

"No, of course you are, Father. It's just…" Shawlong had resumed speaking, the man's voice trembling a little at the end. Grimmjow fixed his tired gaze upon the black haired priest.

"But what, Shawlong?"

It was the mayor who spoke next.

"It's a surprise to see you out and about, Father. You've been locked in your house for a while. We… we thought you were feeling ill aga—"

"You thought I was going insane, didn't you?" Grimmjow cut across the portly man, his cyan eyes narrowing as he focused on the mayor. A smile of grim satisfaction formed over his lips when the man stepped back slightly. "Don't tell me you weren't. I could hear you all yelling it from the streets."

He chuckled drily when he saw the trio exchange guilty looks.

"I assure you I'm perfectly fine. Now what are you all gathered here for at this time of night? The last sermon concluded a few hours ago." He spoke up roughly.

He frowned when the men in front of him exchanged further confused glances.

"Last sermon?" Father Lindocruz echoed, his light voice timid. Grimmjow stared at him.

"The… last sermon… Friday night liturgy… Father Granz was conducting it." He clenched his teeth when the name parted his lips, and he shot a seething glance to the demon. Szayel's lips simply curled into a wider grin.

The continued confused stares passed between the three men made Grimmjow shift uncomfortably on the spot. He wasn't sure he was liking where this was going.

_What are you playing at…?_ He hissed in his mind to Szayel. The demon didn't respond.

"Father Jaegerjaquez… we've never had Friday night liturgies." Father Lindocruz laughed somewhat awkwardly.

"Nor have we ever had a 'Father Granz'." Shawlong announced, gazing at Grimmjow as if the man had just grown two heads.

Grimmjow froze.

"… What?" He whispered.

He felt sick when he heard Szayel's haunting laughter filter through his mind. He clenched his hands by his sides.

_You bastard…_

" _I told you he never existed."_ The demon chuckled. Grimmjow's gaze darkened.

_So you fucked with all their minds and made them see things until you decided to just snap them out of it?!_

" _Made_ them  _see things, Grimmjow? Or just you?"_ The demon's tone was deeply amused, and in that moment Grimmjow felt his heart seem to come to a stop.

…  _You fucking bastard…_

Szayel laughed again.

" _They've been thinking you're mad for months. Shall I tell you what they saw, Grimmjow? A once respected priest suddenly striding the corridors of the chapel talking to his imaginary friend. Oh yes… and the scenes in that pub were delightfully more entertaining. Sitting there talking to thin air as if you were conversing with something only you could see… and the talk of demons? The rumours spread quickly. They thought you were even trying to summon one."_ The chuckling laughter grew louder in volume.

Grimmjow should have felt something. He knew he should have… but he just couldn't. For once he just felt tired. Tired and empty inside.

_You're not even real, Szayel… are you?_ He thought quietly. The demon's laughter stopped.

" _Oh I'm real alright. And so is Hell… and so is that hole in your chest. I may lie to alter the reality of my victims to send them to me sooner… but one thing I will_ never  _fabricate is my existence. The word of a devil is bound by that contract we share, though that doesn't mean I can't toy with your fate as I see fit until the moment that contract is complete."_

Grimmjow smiled grimly.

_Well then. Isn't that a relief._

" _Sarcasm will get you nowhere."_

The blue haired priest snorted.

Those gathered in front of him nervously shuffled on their feet, seeing the priest start smiling and scoffing to himself out of nowhere, even though nothing else had been said.

"F-Father…" Shawlong stammered, the man swallowing audibly as he cleared his throat and straightened himself up. He took a deep breath when Grimmjow focused his eyes on him. "There's… something we wish to talk to you about."

Grimmjow arched an eyebrow.

"I'm listening." He answered. Shawlong exchanged another glance with those two along either side of him.

"We thought we were doing you a favour by… leaving you to your fantasies a few months ago. It was amusing at first but… really now it  _has_ gotten out of hand… especially after those incidents with Asano and Nelliel. I mean just these past three weeks alone you've been in your house and not come out once… until now. And your continued talk of this mysterious priest and… and _demons_ … it's… most unsettling. I'm sure you can agree…?"

Grimmjow gazed blankly at him.

"I do." He replied. Shawlong breathed a slight sigh of relief.

"That's wonderful to hear, Grimmjow. Now if you'll promise to put this behind you w—"

"—I'm afraid I'll have to interrupt here, Father Koufang." The mayor cleared his throat, the portly villager stepping forth and eyeing the blue haired priest warily. He ignored Shawlong's attempts to protest, the mayor instead extending a hand and motioning for Father Lindocruz to restrain him.

The brunet did so, though with some degree of hesitancy as he held Shawlong back. Grimmjow's eyes narrowed on the mayor and he cocked his head to the side, his cyan eyes glinting in the candlelight.

"Now I don't want no trouble in this town, Father Jaegerjaquez." The mayor began, the man audibly stumbling over his words. "We're good folks here. Good, churchgoing folks who have a strong faith in God. I don't want to have to do this, but you've given me no choice. As mayor of Karakura Town I have it on good authority to relocate you to the city… Nelliel is doing well and there's no reason you won't eith—"

"You're planning on sending me to an asylum?" Grimmjow arched an eyebrow further, the man's expression turning stony. The mayor gulped and took another step back. "On whose authority was this, mayor?"

The man cleared his throat.

"Th-the government's." He stammered. Grimmjow barked out a harsh laugh.

"Fuck the government." He snorted aloud.

The mayor exchanged dark glances with the two other priests. Grimmjow's expression was livid as he turned his gaze back upon the trio.

"You mean to tell me the whole town thinks I'm going crazy… and then out of nowhere the  _government_ steps in to take matters into their own hands?! The city has no jurisdiction over this town." He snarled.

The mayor closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in slowly, as if trying to calm himself down. He carefully reached a hand into his coat pocket. Grimmjow's eyes narrowed again and his eyes followed the movement.

"Not under any normal circumstances, no. They don't. But this isn't any normal circumstance, Father Jaegerjaquez. We thought you might still have some sense left to come quietly… but it appears not. I was told to offer you this ultimatum in response."

The words had barely left his lips when he had reached his hand back out, a pistol held tightly in his grasp as he pointed it at the priest. Grimmjow's eyes widened and the two priests behind the mayor cried out, their voices echoing around the chapel walls as they begged him to reconsider.

"You said we wouldn't have to use this!" Shawlong cried out.

"Mayor!" Father Lindocruz pleaded. The mayor turned on them.

"Shut up!" He cried out, casting a venomous glare back at the blue haired man who was still frozen up on the dais, his cyan eyes trained solely on the gun in his grasp. "You're a wanted man, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez! The police came in this morning telling me a rather unlikely story… an unlikely story which I found remarkably easy to believe the more I looked at the evidence they gave me. Five years ago a murder was committed at the city chapel. The priest and his three clergymen were all assassinated. The priest's foster son was none other than a boy picked up off the streets in the city outskirts, having been a victim of domestic abuse since his very birth. The son disappeared shortly after the event, and the police couldn't track him… that is, until they were called in to investigate the crime scene at a house some hour away from the city centre half a year later. A young man was murdered in the same manner as those priests six months prior, and the one man whom the police were still yet to question had slipped from their grasp once again." The mayor paused, panting heavily from the exertion of his speech. He clenched the gun tighter.

"Fingerprints found in the man's apartment a few months ago which had previously gone unnoticed were sampled at the forensic office. They matched the same as the ones later discovered in the remnants of that church. Those fingerprints are a direct match to yours, Grimmjow. The police have been after you for five years. You're a murderer, a false priest and a severely dangerous criminal and I've been given the order to carry out justice myself if you don't come quietly this instant!"

There was a resounding silence in the chapel, both Shawlong and Tesla gazing horrified at the mayor as he stood before them, the weapon in his grasp still trained steadily on the priest by the altar. Grimmjow had said nothing, the man gazing at the gun and allowing the mayor's words to echo in his ears.

He sighed.

"It's true." He murmured lowly, his rough voice hoarse as he slowly lifted his gaze, his expression fatigued beyond measure as he glanced at the people before him. The two priests stifled shocked gasps, and the mayor smiled triumphantly. Grimmjow rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. Behind him he could sense Szayel watching with intrigue – the demon no doubt thoroughly enjoying every minute of the drama resulting from his own work unfolding before his very eyes.

Grimmjow cleared his throat and spoke up louder.

"I killed them. Why? My father was murdered, mayor. Those priests stabbed him in that chapel. You couldn't even begin to imagine how I felt... so I returned the favour. And that young man… well, how would you fancy it if your lover for over a year had just all of a sudden said he wanted someone else? He knew my history. He knew I had a criminal record. I couldn't help it. I just flipped. Though I had help… in fact if it wasn't for  _him_ , this probably wouldn't have been possible. So really instead of blaming me, perhaps you should make sure you have  _all_ your facts straight before accusing just one person."

There was a stunned silence which echoed around the chapel walls.

" _You're playing a dangerous game, you know."_ Szayel's tone sounded deeply amused. Grimmjow smiled bitterly.

_Yeah._

"You're saying there was an accomplice?" The mayor stammered, drawing Grimmjow's attention back to him. "Who?!"

Grimmjow smirked.

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you." He waved it off. He had to admit some part of him enjoyed the expressions of confusion entering the men's faces, the trio glancing to one another and whispering lowly under their breaths. He watched the mayor closely, seeing the gun lower ever so slightly in his hands.

" _Are you sure you want to risk this again?"_ Grimmjow could feel Szayel's gaze on him even as the demon spoke. He nodded. He was answered by soft chuckling behind him.

"Surely… after all this… you still don't mean to say you're blaming this on a  _demon_?!" The mayor got out at length, having turned his attention back on the priest. Grimmjow's lips curled into a sneer.

"The only demons that exist are our own, mayor." He replied simply. The mayor narrowed his eyes, his fingers gripping the gun firmly with both hands once more.

"You're a nutcase." He hissed. Grimmjow shrugged.

"Maybe."

"You're not going to come quietly?"

Grimmjow's eyes flashed.

"No."

The mayor clenched his teeth.

"… Very well."

The gunshot that echoed around the chapel walls sounded like it was enough to make the stained glass shatter, the thundering sound so loud it made those present cry out and grip their ears. Shawlong and Father Lindocruz yelled out at the mayor, rushing forwards and grabbing him to restrain him, their eyes wild with horror at what they had just borne witness to.

"MAYOR! WHAT IN GOD'S NAME DID YOU JUST DO?!" Shawlong yelled.

"Only what I was ordered to do! It's better this than having that psychopath run rampant in our town!" The mayor countered, his voice a low snarl as he struggled against the hold the priests had on him.

"Y'know, next time you aim for someone at least make sure your hand is steady. Anyone could see that bullet wasn't going to make it from a mile off."

The men stopped their struggling when that deep voice cut above their quarrel, the rough tone sounding thoroughly amused. They gasped, lifting their heads and yelling in surprise when they saw the blue haired priest still standing there, looking like he hadn't even moved a muscle in the time that shot had been fired.

His cyan eyes were cold as he gazed down at them, a slow smirk spreading across his lips and making his features look wild in the ghostly candlelight. His arms were folded casually over his chest.

Shawlong and Father Lindocruz stammered and let go of the mayor, the two priests gazing up in horror and awe almost as if they had just personally witnessed the return of Jesus Christ. Their mouths opened and closed, and the two almost fell onto their backs as they knocked into the aisle pews in their haste to keep their distance.

"G-Grimmjow!" Shawlong stammered.

"That's… that's… impossible!" Father Lindocruz whispered. The mayor was frozen still, his hand trembling so much he dropped the gun he had been holding, the weapon thudding upon the marble ground and echoing dully around them.

"No… it… it can't be…" He choked out. Grimmjow scoffed.

"Look, your aim is shit. I just told you that. What else did you think it could possibly be?" He smirked. "A demon?"

The two priests wailed and scrambled towards the exit. Grimmjow took a step down from the dais.

"D-d-DON'T SCREW AROUND!" The mayor yelled, tripping and falling backwards onto his behind. He whimpered and gasped the closer Grimmjow approached, the man's steps utterly menacing in that moment.

Grimmjow snorted.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, mayor." He said lowly, his voice hauntingly quiet. He reached to the half-ripped front of his robes, pulling apart the fabric and revealing his torso to the downed man. The mayor's eyes widened on his face, a mortified yell escaping his lips when he saw the gaping, see-through hole carved into the man's abdomen.

"This thing's actually pretty useful." Grimmjow chuckled, glancing down at the hole and tracing his fingers around the edge where skin gave way into nothing. "Though if you'd aimed a little higher you might've actually done something to me."

The mayor shook his head, quickly scrambling backwards as fast as he could on his arms and legs.

"Th-the Devil's Mark…" He whispered. His skin paled.

Grimmjow lifted his gaze again and narrowed his eyes on the man.

"You've seen this before, eh?" He whispered. The mayor didn't reply. Grimmjow continued to gaze steadily at him. Eventually he shrugged.

"Whatever. I don't care if you've seen one of them or a seen a million. That's not what I'm pissed off at right now." He sneered. He took another step forwards. The mayor scrambled further back.

"M-mercy!" He whimpered. Grimmjow paused.

"Mercy?" He echoed. He threw his head back and a loud bark of laughter left his lips. "Mercy?! That's ironic, coming from someone like you. You said so yourself, didn't you? I'm insane. I'm a murderer – I'm psychopathic! What  _mercy_ do you think I'm likely to give you, huh? I'm no priest, and I'm certainly not your  _God_." He growled.

From further away by the door Shawlong and Father Lindocruz had paused, watching the conversation unfold with terror in their eyes. Grimmjow glanced at them for a moment, his gaze expressionless.

"Grimmjow… what happened to you?" Shawlong's whisper echoed around the chapel walls.

Grimmjow shrugged.

"Reality check, Father Koufang. Thanks to my invisible friend the demon here." He taunted.

Shawlong narrowed his eyes, Grimmjow meanwhile scoffing and looking back down at the mayor.

"Still wanna call me away to that asylum? Or are you gonna try your luck with that gunshot trick again?"

He tensed when he saw the mayor's hands slowly slip into his back pockets, the man clearly fumbling around for something. Grimmjow didn't even move when he heard the gentle thud of boots, and a clawed hand came into view alongside him, Szayel standing next to Grimmjow with a satisfied smile upon his lips. In his left hand he was casually tossing up the bullet fired earlier which he'd caught after it passed through Grimmjow, and the metallic shard glistened in the candlelight as it rose and fell against the demon's palm.

"He has a knife in his pocket. He's planning to use it on you." The incubus announced lazily. Grimmjow nodded. He'd suspected as much.

"Let me guess. You planned all this tonight as well?" He asked tiredly.

In front of him the mayor was glancing from Grimmjow to the empty space next to him, looking like he was wondering who the hell the priest was talking to. Grimmjow sneered again.

Szayel merely chucked, the demon catching the bullet a final time and keeping it still in his hand.

"Not entirely. I must say your little stunt back there acknowledging my actions in your life had me mildly impressed though. That's not something I say very often."

Grimmjow scoffed.

"Well I'm just full of surprises."

Szayel laughed quietly, letting the bullet fall to the floor with a dull clatter. In front the mayor jumped and jerked, his eyes widening as he tried to find the source of the noise. The demon's eyes narrowed and he stepped closer to the blue haired man, a taloned hand trailing lightly over his back before gripping his shoulder firmly. He leant in close to the man's ear, his smile positively wicked as he pulled his lips apart.

"Don't stop now." He whispered softly. He moved his hand to stroke down the side of Grimmjow's cheek, his clawed talon scratching the side of his neck with such gentle movements Grimmjow visibly shivered.

He chuckled lowly, his lips touching to the shell of the priest's ear.

"Kill him."

Grimmjow closed his eyes, taking a moment to try and settle the pounding of his heart in his chest. Though he didn't really know what he was waiting for. He knew he'd fallen the moment the demon had revealed himself to him in that office.

He knew he'd fallen the moment that hole fully opened on his chest.

He knew he'd sunken so low into the very depths of Hell when he craved to feel the blood of that worthless mayor drench his clothes the moment that bullet had been fired at him.

He opened his eyes.

"Szayel." He muttered. The demon arched an eyebrow, nevertheless taking another step forwards as he focused his gaze upon the chapel doors which were still open. He narrowed his fiery golden eyes at the two priests who even now were making to scramble outside.

"Don't presume to give me orders." He murmured softly, though the grin now sliding onto his lips was wild. He rose his hand and clicked his fingers, and the chapel doors slammed shut with force and locked shut.

The priests yelled, crashing into the wood and fumbling with the lock which just wouldn't budge, slamming and cursing the blue haired priest and screaming for answers even as he stood at the end of the chapel and watched with no emotion on his face.

Szayel laughed, his voice lilting high through the walls of the chapel as he drew his hand back, flickers of orange dancing atop his clawed fingertips. His expression was ecstatic as he swirled his hand and flicked his arm upwards with one graceful stroke, and the heat and flame of burning fire danced wildly as it roared and crackled in full force against the pews and tapestries, the smoke blazing high and casting everything in asphyxiating orange.

The priests were screaming themselves hoarse, the mayor now having managed to jump over the wreckage of a smouldering wooden aisle seat, the flames licking along its surface and combusting it on the spot.

"WH-WH-WHAT'S GOING ON?! WHAT DID YOU DO?!" The mayor shrieked, already choking violently against the fire as the smoke entered his lungs. A wailing scream of agony pierced the air over the roaring blaze, and Grimmjow watched with curiosity as he saw Shawlong fall – the skin peeling raw away from his body as his yells of torture died into one last ghostly wail. He died in the fire which consumed him entirely, Father Lindocruz crying and being pulled down into the devil magic which tore his skin into embers just as it had done to his elder.

The putrid smell of burning flesh mixed with the smell of the smoke, yet all the while Grimmjow found he couldn't care. He stepped forwards, knowing he had no reason to fear the fire as sure enough it seemed to pass right through him as he stepped towards it. It was cool to the touch like water, and he couldn't help but run his hands idly over the flickering flames which danced by his palms.

He bent down to pick up the discarded gun on the ground, straightening himself up as he twirled it in his hands. He locked his blank gaze upon the mayor who even now was screaming louder than those priests had – tears tracking down his cheeks as he shook his head, clasping his hands in front of him and sniffling as he hoarsely pleaded with the killer for mercy.

"P-please… Father…"

Grimmjow arched an eyebrow, his lips pulling into a slow smirk. He held the gun out, pointing the barrel directly at the mayor's head with steady aim. His finger rested against the trigger.

"Father?" He echoed, chuckling darkly. "Sorry. I don't think He'll be saving you now."

The mayor shrieked, coughing and retching against the smoke he inhaled into his lungs, the man scrambling towards the doors in his last meagre attempt at escape.

Szayel watched, the demon's eyes unblinking as he bit his lip, a breathless moan of delight purring from his throat as he gazed intently, thoroughly relishing in the murder, the destruction, the _hatred_ seeping from Grimmjow in almost tangible waves.

The mayor made one last attempt to talk sense into the blue haired man, even as his skin caught flame and he screamed against the searing heat as it blistered his body.

"Y-YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH THIS, DEMON!"

Firm lips pulled apart to reveal a flash of white teeth. Cyan eyes glinted.

He pulled the trigger, and the flame rose to rain down upon the mayor's body as it fell to the fire which consumed it whole, blood splattering the marble floors crimson.

* * *

The gun clattered against the ground as he threw it from his grip, the weapon spinning and sliding to some place unseen under the remainder of the church pews. Around them the flames continued to lick and crackle lazily away at the chapel walls, the rancid scent of destruction overpowering.

Grimmjow gazed around at the half-destroyed place of worship, a snarl forming on his lips as he reached towards his neck and tore the cross he wore from its chain, the man reaching back and throwing it into the blaze where it was consumed eagerly by Szayel's magic.

He then reached down to tear the rest of his cassock off, shredding the black robe and casting it into the fire where it frayed to ash. Now clad in his jeans and torn T-shirt he turned around, his cyan eyes locking onto the figure of the pink haired demon standing back by the altar. He could see those golden eyes trained solely on him even from how far away he was, Szayel's eyes glowing just as brightly as the flames around them, enhanced by the flickers of red and orange.

Pale lips formed a pleased smile, and Grimmjow approached the incubus slowly.

"Feel better?" The demon asked casually, chuckling softly to himself even as the blue haired man stood within a few feet of him. Grimmjow scoffed, otherwise not replying. Unfazed by this Szayel extended a taloned hand, his fingers curling and beckoning towards him as he made to call back the fire he had cast out to aid Grimmjow in his revenge.

He blinked when a long hand encircled around his wrist and clamped down, the pink haired demon turning his head to find himself gazing at Grimmjow, whose head was turned to survey the damage once more.

"No. Let it burn." He muttered. He turned his gaze back to the demon. "All of it."

Arching a pink eyebrow the incubus simply shrugged, lowering his hand when Grimmjow removed his own. He turned to face the disgraced priest, his head tilting to the side as he observed him carefully.

"You  _do_ realise the rest of the town will come barging over here demanding why their only chapel was suddenly set alight, yes? It doesn't worry me in the slightest if you want to slaughter the rest of them of course, in fact I would greatly encourage and enjoy it… however time is looking a bit on the short side of things here." The incubus spoke lowly.

Grimmjow tilted his head back and the man closed his eyes, sighing deeply.

"Hell doesn't wait, Grimmjow." Szayel continued. His gaze fell to the hole he could faintly see through the outline of the man's shirt, and he licked his lips.

"I really don't have any choice in the matter… do I, Szay?"

Szayel blinked and returned his gaze back to Grimmjow, the demon staring blankly at the man. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"I do believe we already established that some time ago. Do you have short term memory issues?" He asked, sounding unamused. Grimmjow chuckled drily and ran a hand over his face.

"Shut the fuck up."

The demon smirked.

"… Will it hurt? Getting sent to Hell?" Szayel was momentarily stunned by Grimmjow's words, and the incubus narrowed his eyes.

"Why the ridiculous questions? Of course it will. Though, granted, my particular method of extracting souls is merciful compared to some of my brethren. At least I give people a rather desirable taste of sin instead of forcefully ripping their souls out of their hearts like some, though in the end Hell will still hurt them."

Grimmjow nodded, turning around to fix his cyan gaze upon the demon. The look in his eyes was hard, resolute and filled with determination.

"Good." He whispered. "I don't want Hell to go easy on me. That doesn't mean you should either… I want to feel all the pain I've endured crash over me tenfold, do you understand? I want it to hurt so much I can't stand it anymore. If Hell's so interested in having me, I don't wanna fucking disappoint."

He paused, and a sly smirk crept upon his lips.

"And for fuck's sake don't you  _dare_ make me fall asleep for this."

The smile which slid onto the demon's mouth was positively wicked, white teeth flashing as golden eyes gazed with no small amount of hunger at the blue haired man.

"I can't very well hear you scream if you're asleep now, can I?" He chuckled darkly, his voice lowering and seeming to smoothly caress over Grimmjow's ears, seeping into his mind and lulling him in. Grimmjow strode forwards, his eyes raking over the demon – the hatred in his stare from earlier now slipping away into a gaze of carnal need. He took one more look at those golden eyes locked onto him, and a growl left his throat when he reached out and fisted his hands tightly through silken pink locks, lowering his head and crashing his lips forcefully down upon Szayel's pale mouth.

The first thing he tasted was the sweetness; the demon's mouth crashed against his with effortlessly perfect timing, Grimmjow's flurry of unforgiving kisses being matched almost teasingly by that creature's own. The taste of his lips was as sweet as the scent of his skin, and a long, low growl of satisfaction coursed through Grimmjow's throat as the heat of that kiss warmed his very core.

A low chuckle coupled with a gasp of satisfaction was returned by Szayel when Grimmjow shoved him hardly back, pushing the demon up against the nearby wall with such force the air was almost stolen from his very lungs. The demon laced his clawed hands around his neck, their sharp talons scratching down Grimmjow's neck and shoulders, leaving faint trickles of ruby blood as his skin was cleanly cut. Grimmjow groaned in pleasure, the heat of those kisses and the salty tang of blood pooling in their mouths when Szayel bit down sharply on the man's bottom lip combined with the sharp prickling along his shoulders sparking warmth inside his brain and sending it shooting down like energised bolts towards his lower abdomen.

He smirked against that pale mouth, his hands pulling on pink locks and guiding the demon's hot mouth up so he could plunge his tongue deftly inside that sweet cavern, tasting and mapping and memorising every inch of tongue he was met with lazily from within. His eyes fluttered and he saw lust-glazed golden orbs watching him intently, and Grimmjow chuckled as he ran his hands feverishly down the length of the demon's leather-clad torso, feeling every inch of that supple body still clothed and wishing faintly in the back of his head that he could feel something else other than the buckled straps his fingers ran over.

Grimmjow panted heatedly when a clawed hand ran up from his shoulders and wrapped in his hair, tugging his head down as close as physically possible to the demon's mouth as tongues continued to dance lazily, silvery trickles of saliva already pooling with blood and dripping down their chins. Low, sharp moans elicited from their throats, the sounds soon turning pleased and breathless when hands began flying.

Grimmjow shivered against the demon's slender form when those talons felt, slid, grazed and ran heatedly over his body, his back arching against the sensation as fingers tore at his shirt, all the while gripping and digging into his hips, his chest, his thighs and buttocks, pulling him closer so his groin could rub against the demon's arousal even as Grimmjow eagerly gripped slender hips and pressed flush against him.

They grit their teeth when they parted, breathless cusses and groans falling from their mouths when their foreheads rested together, hands still flying and feeling, mapping and digging over each other's backs and hips. A low chuckle, the sound nothing short of seductive, echoed in Grimmjow's ears as the demon bucked forwards, guiding his groin hotly over Grimmjow's and making the man bite his lip and growl.

"Fuck…" He chuckled, clamping his mouth back down against Szayel's even when the demon simply purred in pleasure, Grimmjow guiding his groin back against the other's and the two's bodies beginning a wild, desperate dance of wanton grinding against the wall. He felt the demon's spine lock and arch, a pleased sigh soon rising into a sharp moan escaping Szayel's lips when Grimmjow jerked the creature's head back to allow him to latch his mouth hotly against his neck, sucking the pale flesh above the neckline of his suit, Grimmjow revelling in the way the incubus bucked up and wrapped his legs around his back and locked his thighs along either side of his hips.

He teasingly slid his groin at a lower angle against the demon's, Grimmjow smirking when by doing so he made the incubus inhale sharply and jerk against the wall. Szayel's head fell to the side, clawed fingers latching onto Grimmjow's back and digging into his muscled skin and drawing forth pin-pricks of blood as he laughed breathlessly, his eyes blazing.

"Careful there…" He whispered, chuckling. "Don't tease me too much… that's my job."

Grimmjow snickered, grinding his hips again and lifting his head to whisper against the demon's kiss-flushed lips.

"Then start teasing." He all but purred.

A flash of teeth in a sly smirk was all Grimmjow was warned with when he found himself thrown back with a loud thud against the altar, all air being knocked from his lungs as he hit the table and pain shot through his body. He gasped out, blinking and feeling slightly dizzy from the vertigo, but he roused himself out of it as he blinked and shook his head, sitting up and refocusing his gaze upon the demon when he heard the slow, casual approach of boots against the marble.

His mouth went dry – whether from the smoke in the air or from what he was seeing, he didn't know – but he couldn't look away as he saw gold eyes burn like the fire around them, pink hair half hiding the demon's face in shadow as that red tongue slowly, leisurely flicked out and trailed in a mesmerising arc over his lips. Grimmjow shivered, his chest rising and falling quickly as he sat there, watching with awe as that leather suit began to dissolve and melt around the demon. It retracted, as if it was part of his skin, sliding away first from his shoulders to reveal the pale milky expanse of flesh and collarbone and melting away into nothingness.

More of his chest was slowly revealed as the demon approached, each step slow and leisurely, purposeful and very much intimidating. Grimmjow saw a slim yet still well defined torso reveal itself to him, followed by the teasing show of hip bones the further that suit receded down the beast's body. He growled faintly in disappointment when it stopped just before his groin, where the outline of the prominent bulge underneath was still visible even through that suit, and he arched a blue eyebrow when he lifted his hungry gaze back up to the incubus who even now had stopped right in front of him.

"You did say to tease you, did you not?" The demon replied, smirking and arching an eyebrow of his own. Grimmjow scoffed, reaching out to run his hands along the milky skin of Szayel's abdomen, smirking when he felt the warmth of the demon's body and the muscles responding to his sliding touch.

"Bastard…" He hissed. Szayel laughed, tilting his head back and sighing even when Grimmjow's thumbs slid up to stroke over his pebbled nipples, and the demon hooked a leg back around Grimmjow's hip and gripped his blue hair once more with a clawed hand. Grimmjow growled, the demon leaning down and grazing his mouth ever so teasingly over his own, the two locking gazes as if in a silent challenge to see who would make the first move.

Szayel's golden eyes trailed over Grimmjow's face, his lips pressing against the man's own when he spoke, gazing further down that expanse of well-defined muscle which comprised Grimmjow's tanned torso.

"Now I don't normally go out of my way to do this for someone… but you  _are_ quite interesting." Grimmjow didn't stop to question the incubus's words when those sinful lips grazed against his own, his whisper so soft and hot to his ears he felt a low groan push at his throat. He opened his mouth to welcome the slip of tongue within, the blue haired man reaching up to tightly fist pink locks of hair as he tilted his head back.

All the while the demon's slow chuckle echoed in his ears, muffled slightly by their mouths joined together, and Grimmjow hissed around the demon's tongue when he felt those sinfully clawed fingers latch against his chest and scratch downwards all the way to his hips. His back arched up even as the incubus lowered himself between Grimmjow's parted legs, growls of pleasure coursing from Grimmjow's throat with reckless abandon as Szayel slid his tongue out of his mouth and trailed it down his neck.

He felt the dampness of that tongue lick and slide along his throat, savouring the taste of his skin. He felt the sharp pricks of pain course through his chest as those talons dug in once more and drew further bleeding marks. He felt his dick pulse under the tightness of his jeans as his breathless curses flew louder and more frequently from his lips.

And he felt his eyes widen and his mouth part in shock when that pressure over his needing groin lessened and became replaced with the soft puffs of breath of those pale lips hovering leisurely over his glistening, beading tip.

His head shot down to see the pink haired incubus gazing slyly up at him from on his knees, and a sharp dig of his taloned fingers into his thighs made Grimmjow's teeth clench and a low moan of blissful agony escape his lips when that red tongue flicked around his slit and pale cheeks hollowed to slide down the impressive member before him, the demon taking him fully in his mouth.

"AH, SHIT!"

Grimmjow couldn't help the heavy cry that tore from his throat, his head falling back and his hands clenching in pink locks and scratching the demon's scalp as that skilful tongue leisurely stretched and flexed and swirled around his cock, dipping towards his sac and slipping back up with lewd wet noises, all the while the incubus applying more pressure and sucking with just as much ravenous force as it took to coat Grimmjow's dick with saliva. Grimmjow's growls turned feral, the man unable to help himself as he bucked his hips, cursing and panting as that mouth moved and sucked, as if he was hungry for every drop of cum the demon knew he would be awarded greatly with if he keep his torturous pacing up.

Grimmjow's mind was clouded with euphoria, his head falling forwards now and his eyes fluttering when a particularly lewd suck of his wet cock made him moan and shudder, that tongue everywhere on him, leaving no part of his hard shaft untouched. The demon smirked around his length, Szayel purring silkily as he ran his clawed hands back down Grimmjow's thighs and hips, drawing more blood which pooled with the blood trickling from the other open cuts on his chest.

Grimmjow cried out – he didn't know what he was saying but he hoped it was a plea for more – that mouth sliding further and bobbing up and down with so much reverence he thought he was actually getting sent to Heaven instead of Hell. He arched further against the claws latching over his chest, panting harshly as they massaged and brushed his pebbled nipples, waves upon wave of pleasure crashing through his shaking body.

With a particularly forceful suck on his length Grimmjow fell forwards, trembling and moaning breathless cusses and growls for the incubus to keep going, his hands latching onto that pale back as he thrust his hips inside that hot mouth, his fingers leaving crescent shaped marks on the demon's shoulders. His breath hitched when that low chuckle which purred from Szayel's throat sent vibrations through Grimmjow's dick and all but made him see stars, and those taloned fingertips crushed down on his thighs and pulled him closer to the demon's mouth, the incubus all but eating him whole, eagerly devouring as the first spurts of cum trickled into his mouth from Grimmjow's pleasurably abused cock.

"Shit… shit… fuck… FUCK! YES!" Grimmjow didn't even know what he was saying anymore, his legs locking around the demon's back when that mouth refused to let up in its talented appraisal of his leaking cock. And then just like that it stopped.

"Wh-wha—"

Grimmjow was pushed onto his back on the altar, his cock erect and heavy and a flash of pink and gold all that the blue haired man could see in his lust-clouded state as the incubus pinned him down and grabbed his hips, positioning himself over the panting man all the while with a smile on his lips the very embodiment of sin itself.

Grimmjow groaned lowly when he could only stare, mesmerised, as the pearly white trickles of his pre-cum on that now-reddened mouth were lapped slowly off the demon's lips with that tongue, the incubus moaning in pleasure as he savoured the taste and his eyes blazed.

"More…" He whispered breathlessly, the remainder of his leather suit now retracting and folding away to disappear into ash-like particles as he crawled over the blue haired man, his arms on either side of his face and his legs clamped tightly on either side of his hips. He chuckled when Grimmjow's mouth fell open and he bit his lips as he saw the rather impressive size of the demon's member, all flushed and red and wet as if just for him and him only.

"More…" Szayel purred again, his voice all sin and everything sweet as he latched his teeth against Grimmjow's earlobe, earning a jerk of the man's body and a sharp hiss of pleasure. "Scream more for me… I want to hear you."

Grimmjow growled and gripped pale hips, feeling the incubus's taloned fingers roughly push his legs apart so he could slide his slender form down upon Grimmjow's bared muscled body, his jeans pulled off without resistance and his balls tightening in anticipation when he felt that demon's hard cock nudge against his puckered hole.

His breath caught in his throat and for a moment he was almost going to yell out that he hadn't been prepared – but he remembered what he had told the incubus before all this. He didn't want him to go easy on him. He wanted to hurt. He wanted to suffer. He wanted to bleed and he  _wanted_ to scream. So Grimmjow's eyes rolled back into his skull and a loud cry of agony tore from his throat when the demon thrust his hips and his cock landed home balls deep right inside Grimmjow's tight entrance with absolutely no mercy.

His back arched off the altar when the demon gave him no chance to recover – immediately setting up an intense, hot, pounding rhythm of hard thrusting, each time going deeper and deeper, higher and higher. Grimmjow continued to yell, continued to scream and arch his back as his hands gripped pale shoulders so tightly they drew blood, sweat dripping down his face and chest as wave of pain after pain took him under.

"So good…" The demon crooned near his ear; voice hot and heavy as his tongue laved Grimmjow's cheek and neck. His voice was sex-laced and breathless and Grimmjow only arched higher against his body, unintelligible moans and curses parting his moist lips as their skin slapped wetly together against the stone altar. "Louder, Grimmjow… louder…  _scream…_ "

Grimmjow growled roughly, hips snapping and tears rolling down his cheeks as fire coursed his body. It felt good, so unbelievably  _good_ he was already losing himself. It was unforgiving, it was wild, it was violent and blood poured as claws scratched and dug into muscled skin and Grimmjow  _loved_ it.

A merciless thrust up into his prostate had him scream louder, Grimmjow locking his legs tightly around Szayel's hips as he flipped the demon over, his head falling back and sinful wails of ecstasy flowing freely from his throat as he rose up onto his knees and slammed down, feeling like he'd almost snapped himself in half as he bounced and swayed and gyrated his hips, riding as hard as he could go if only he could make it more painful, more pleasurable, more intense as the incubus's teeth tore at his throat and sucked and lapped his neck. Szayel crooned sweetly in his ear, urging him on, laughing breathlessly as Grimmjow lost himself to him... truly became his.

"Fuck… shit… ah fuck… hah… ah…  _AH_ … _FUCK!"_

Grimmjow fisted his hands tightly in pink locks, jerking and rolling as Szayel thrust back up against his prostate again, the sound of Grimmjow's screams for more echoing loudly around the chapel and almost drowning out the sound of the flames which even now were licking against their skin, coolly flickering yet not burning them.

He groaned as his body trembled, Grimmjow biting his lip hard enough to draw blood when he felt himself near his peak. Szayel's lips were upon his mouth, moaning and lapping at the trickle of blood which dribbled down Grimmjow's chin, the demon purring in content as he gripped Grimmjow's hips and forced him down harder upon his length.

"Y-yes… shit… ah  _YES_!" A growl of pleasure rippled through Grimmjow's chest even as he gripped the demon's pale chin and forced his mouth back up, locking their lips firmly together and moaning loudly into his mouth as he came, his hips jerking roughly and grinding against that slender body as his breath hitched and his mind went blank.

He clenched around the demon's cock, Szayel sighing in content as he felt that velvety passage clamp around his length and he bucked once, twice, three times more into Grimmjow's walls before he too met his peak. His golden eyes shone, sated and calm as he returned Grimmjow's desperate kisses, plunging his tongue into that hot panting mouth as his essence spread inside Grimmjow's passage and filled him with sin. He pulled his tongue out of that moaning mouth, Szayel's smile cruel as he gripped that chiselled chin tightly in clawed fingers, keeping the man still upon him even when he threatened to fall against him, his limbs trembling and weak from his orgasm.

Grimmjow's cyan eyes were clouded, clouded and not quite seeing as he slowly focused his gaze upon the demon, his brows creasing as his expression contorted faintly into one of overwhelming fatigue. Szayel chuckled, licking his tongue gently against the side of Grimmjow's mouth and pressing a chaste kiss to those swollen lips. He stroked his clawed hand against the man's sweat-slicked cheek, brushing his hand through the damp blue locks sticking to the man's face and neck in wild dishevelled strands.

"You were so good, Grimmjow…" He crooned softly, tenderly. "Sleep..."

Grimmjow's lips moved, as if he was trying to form one last final word to speak before the demon pulled him down below to where he now belonged for all eternity. He couldn't. Even as that whisper died on his tongue before it was spoken, he slid forwards against the demon, his head burying against the pink haired incubus's shoulder. His eyes had closed, and he had fallen asleep.

The flames of the chapel rose high and the walls already began to creak and groan with threatening destruction as the fire licked mercilessly against the foundations. The smoke coiled and wisped, yet the demon made no move to douse them. This intriguing human in his grasp  _had_ told him to let them burn, after all.

He flickered his lazy golden gaze up to the burnt and melting effigy of Jesus Christ, the statue still managing to have remained mostly unscathed by the fire from its position behind the altar. A cold laughter left the demon's lips, the irony of God watching his fallen priest in his last greatest act of sin on Earth simply far too amusing to the incubus as he slid himself out of the man's comfortable warmth.

His skin reformed the leather casing, his boots thudding against the ground as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He held the blue haired man in his grip as he turned around, and a curtain of flame rushed forth to encase the pair in its fury as Hell opened up and welcomed them home.

By the time the rescue teams and fire service arrived in Karakura Town to combat the flames which had set their chapel alight, the only things they could retrieve from the ash and debris-ridden wreckage was a single silver crucifix upon a chain, lying mostly in-tact underneath some fallen rock.

It was a crucifix which the villagers recognised as belonging to Father Jaegerjaquez.

Seeing him nowhere in sight, the town mayor and two others of the clergy having mysteriously disappeared as well, they had eventually surmised that the mentally ill priest had committed an act of arson before carrying out a murder-suicide, the four of them burning to death in the flames set by the pastor.

His name was shunned and spoken ill of for generations to come, and the chapel was never rebuilt.

The book of demonology in the ruined pastor's office was found shortly afterwards, its leather-bound cover still solid and unmarred as if the fire had never touched it. However, most of the pages were charred and illegible. Except for one page in particular. It had sparked rumours about the last actions of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez before his death.

And whenever a fire would ever flourish and threaten the community from that day onwards, the villagers were always reminded of the night the ill-fated priest had descended to the very pits of Hell with the fabled incubus who had claimed his mind and soul.

* * *

**THE END**


End file.
